


The Many Bonds Between Us

by StarChrome



Category: Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice (Video Game)
Genre: (by Western standards), (one-sided lol), Alpha!Genichiro - Freeform, Alpha!Wolf, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Art, Courtship, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fanart, Genikuro, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega!Kuro, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Scent Kink, Scent Marking, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, eventual Adult!Kuro, kurowolf, the game's canon events will arrive eventually don't worry, time jumps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:34:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 83,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23930881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarChrome/pseuds/StarChrome
Summary: *I'm (kinda) back from my hiatus!*The law decrees that only betas can take the roles of servants and retainers.Wolf enters the service of the Hirata Clan, therefore breaking the law entirely: he is a full-grown alpha posing as a beta, and has become the retainer of the young Divine Heir.His duty ought to be simple. Yet as time passes, his situation grows more complex than he can control, especially with Lord Kuro at its heart and Ashina Genichiro threatening to separate them.
Relationships: Divine Child of Rejuvenation & Sekiro | Wolf, Genichiro Ashina & Isshin Ashina, Genichiro Ashina & Kuro | The Divine Heir, Genichiro Ashina/Kuro | The Divine Heir, Great Shinobi Owl & Sekiro | Wolf, Kuro | The Divine Heir & Sekiro | Wolf, Kuro | The Divine Heir/Sekiro | Wolf, One-Sided - Relationship
Comments: 86
Kudos: 114





	1. The Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> So I once tried to write a Sekiro fic, but I lost motivation and shelved it. Now I'm back, and I hope I can finish this one! And I hope you all enjoy the story :D I've seen so many good Sekiro fics here that I'm rather intimidated, but I'll work hard to do the characters justice!  
> Just a heads-up, I'll be using the Japanese name order: surname first, given name last.

The crushed herbs in Wolf’s pouch covered him in a rain-fresh fragrance, tickling his nose and muting his scent. He did not question it then, nor did he do so now. His father had his reasons, and hardly ever divulged for his son’s sake.

Putting on a scent-masking herb was Owl’s latest command. Wolf wore the pouch inside a fold of his innermost clothing. 

“Remember, Wolf,” Owl murmured at Wolf’s side.

Wolf remained silent. His thoughts went back to earlier that night, standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking the Hirata Estate.  _ You will not speak of your true presentation. You are a beta to them, nothing more, understood? _

The shoji before them slid open, bathing the antechamber in warm, orange light. A tall man stood there, dressed in a haori emblazoned with swirling designs. Four others stood behind him – retainers, Wolf guessed by the uniformal look of their clothes and katanas hanging at their hips.

He took in a quick breath.  _ Betas. _ That was to be expected. All servants and retainers were betas by law. Their scents were subtle, almost bland. The tall man before them, on the other hand … 

“Lord Morimasa,” Owl said with a deferring bow, and Wolf followed his father’s example.

Hirata Morimasa inclined his head. “Shinobi Owl.” He did not call Owl  _ Master, _ as others had done. Others of lower station than Lord Morimasa’s.

Owl showed no change in his demeanor at Lord Morimasa’s words. One might think Owl a beta for all the restraint he could show before another alpha.

“I see you have come with your apprentice,” Lord Morimasa said, fixing Wolf with a critical eye, looking him up and down. “The Usui Clan is remembered well for their exceptional shinobi.”

“This one has proven to be my most proficient apprentice yet,” Owl said. “He will exceed your expectations without a doubt.”

Lord Morimasa’s gaze lingered on Wolf for a heartbeat longer. His nostrils flared momentarily, and Wolf kept his expression neutral. He could feel the pouch of herbs tucked against his midriff, brushing his alpha’s scent away, rendering him mild and unconcerning to others. It should be no different for Lord Morimasa’s senses …

When Lord Morimasa turned away, Wolf relaxed ever so slightly. The herbs had done their job.

“Come, Kuro,” the lord said, and a small figure peeled away from one of the retainers. A young boy, around eight or nine perhaps, and dressed in a kimono of rich material much like Lord Morimasa’s haori. He looked up at Owl and Wolf with reserved interest.

“Hirata Kuro, my nephew and heir,” Lord Morimasa said, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Wolf immediately fell on one knee before the boy. “My lord.”

He sensed, rather than saw, Lord Morimasa’s approval.

“Kuro,” the elder lord said, “this is your shinobi. From this moment on, he will guard you with his life and follow your every order. Use him well.”

“Yes, Uncle,” Lord Kuro replied. 

Wolf kept his gaze firmly on the floor. Lord Kuro’s feet were bare; the child himself was free of any scent to distinguish him as alpha, beta, or omega. It was still too early for his presentation. Instead, Wolf caught a faint floral aroma around his lord.  _ Sakura. _

“Shinobi, raise your head.” Lord Kuro’s voice was neither hard nor soft. Rather, it was straightforward and simple, and something else that Wolf couldn’t identify. He obeyed his lord’s command, looking into the pale face framed with short, dark hair. Curiously, there were a few strands of grey in his hair.

Lord Kuro’s eyes were brown and … warm.  _ Kind, _ Wolf thought. He was familiar with those concepts only through short (and rare) interactions in his youth: calloused hands of commoners offering him scraps of food, brushing the dark hair out of his eyes – mostly when Owl was not around. No one dared get close when Owl was there, save for lords guarded by several retainers.

But Wolf would no longer be around his father. Instead it would be his lord.

The alpha in him shifted, ready to enfold the child in his arms, but Wolf tamped down the instinct. The child was his lord, not his young. Wolf’s duty to him was as his tool, his loyal blade.

Under the eyes of his father and lords, Wolf bowed his head further.

“What is your name?”

“Wolf, my lord.”

Lord Kuro tilted his head in question.

“It is what my father calls me, my lord,” Wolf elaborated.

“Very well … Wolf.” Lord Kuro appeared dissatisfied by the response, but said nothing more.

Both Owl and Lord Morimasa had departed, both to wherever their work called them. As for Wolf, he followed his young lord through hallways, memorizing the path, keeping an eye on stray servants as they hurriedly passed by with bowed heads.

Lord Kuro's rooms were large and spacious, adorned with tapestries and a few ink paintings. Wolf familiarized himself with his lord’s quarters, taking in the sakura scent that covered each object. Futon to bookshelf, folding screen to window sill.

Wolf glanced out the window, eyes piercing through the darkness as though there was none at all. Outside lay a grand courtyard filled with ornamental gardens and a koi pond. Other buildings of the Hirata Estate enclosed the courtyard from all around. Wolf spotted a few bobbing lanterns in the windows far across – likely servants going about their duties. Meanwhile, guards made their rounds through the slim alleys between buildings, spear points glinting as they passed through shafts of moonlight.

Wolf imagined that his father was watching the estate, somewhere in the night.

He turned away from the window to find Lord Kuro gazing at him. His young lord stood near the futon, still dressed in his kimono. He had watched Wolf’s progress without a word, allowing Wolf space as he memorized the chambers.

Lord Kuro straightened, as he met Wolf’s eyes. “Have you finished your inspection?” he asked.

Wolf bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.”

“My uncle told me that the shinobi did this in the past,” Lord Kuro said. “Shinobi in service to other lords, I mean.”

“That is so, my lord.”

“He said that you will not need to sleep.”

Wolf nodded once. “That is correct.”

Lord Kuro frowned. “But – don’t you need to rest?”

“I only need small amounts, my lord.”

Shinobi were just as skilled as any lord’s retainer, and more. It was a shinobi’s duty to remain in the shadows, keeping close to their master while not hindering him, and stepping forward only when called upon. They kept their eyes open for what other retainers couldn’t see. They moved through the air when everyone else remained rooted to the ground. They remained awake when others slept, guarding their masters through each hour of the night.

Wolf planned to do just that.

“Very well,” Lord Kuro said. “I trust you’ll be alright.”

Wolf was startled by the earnest comment. No one had said that to him before. Throughout his youth, his father and Lady Butterfly urged him beyond what he could endure. His resilience and strength was the result of all those training sessions, injuries, and harsh words.

But Lord Kuro knew none of that. Wolf hastily gathered his composure and said, “For your sake, my lord, I will not.”

His response seemed to satisfy his lord, and that was enough for Wolf. Nevertheless, the warmth in his chest remained even after Lord Kuro was readied for sleep and his servants scurried out of the room.

“Where will you be, Wolf?” Lord Kuro asked as he settled onto his futon. 

“Nearby,” Wolf replied. “I will always answer your call, my lord, if you need me.”

Lord Kuro offered a small smile. “Thank you.” Then he lay down, disappearing under the thick covers.

Wolf allowed himself one last look at his lord before slipping through the window and lifting himself onto the roof. From here he’d have a good vantage point to keep watch for intruders. He breathed deeply, noting the floral smell of the gardens, the muted scents of beta servants within the building, and the occasional scent of an alpha as a guard passed by on patrol. Alphas were easy to pick out with their bold scents.

Wolf touched his midriff where his pouch of herbs was hidden. Owl claimed it would last him for a few weeks, if not more, and Wolf would be supplied with fresh herbs before his current ones went dry.

If anybody found out that Wolf was an alpha, he’d be thrown out, or worse. Should he be discovered, Owl’s orders were to escape and regroup, yet they both doubted that would ever happen. Nobody would discover the truth; Wolf was certain of that.

For now, listening to Lord Kuro’s soft breaths in the room below, he settled himself for the night’s vigil.


	2. Hirata

The following days passed into a week, gradually blurring together. By the start of the next week, Wolf knew Lord Kuro’s schedule by heart, many of the faces Lord Kuro spoke with, and the scents of the Hirata Estate.

His lord’s days were full of studies, allowing only an hour or two of leisure time in his schedule. Meals were spent with Lord Morimasa. Wolf remained off to the side during Lord Kuro’s tutoring, though he kept a close eye on the tutors themselves. One of them, the minister for war and a general, was an alpha. To see another alpha standing near _his_ charge … Even though Wolf’s scent was masked, the herbs did nothing for his instincts, and it was only thanks to his training that he was able to keep his hackles down.

Lord Kuro was his master, not his young.

At times Wolf’s instincts unsettled him. He knew that the alpha’s urge to protect their children was strong; he’d seen in it action before. Wolf had been around Lord Kuro for only a couple weeks now, and already he felt a pull toward his lord, an urge to shield him from all else.

It was his duty to protect Lord Kuro, of course, but Wolf must keep it toned down. Betas didn’t feel as strongly as alphas with regard to their children, even unpresented children like Lord Kuro. If Wolf showed too much of this protectiveness, others would find it strange.

It was during Lord Kuro’s leisure time that Wolf was eased, if only partly. No one else was around them save for the servants and Lord Kuro’s other retainers.

His lord loved to read, and so they often frequented the library. Sometimes Lord Kuro took a book from the shelf in his room to bring into the sunlit gardens, and would sit near the koi pond in the shade of a lush, green tree. Wolf remained still and stalwart by his lord’s side, keeping a watch for anything that was out of place in the area.

“The flowers withered,” Lord Kuro murmured. “Their colour faded away.”

Wolf glanced at him in surprise. “My lord?”

“Oh, it’s just poetry,” Lord Kuro said with a light laugh. “This one is by Ono no Komachi. Have you heard of her? Her verses are beautiful.” He cleared his throat and recited:

“The flowers withered,

Their colour faded away,

While meaninglessly

I spent my days in the world

And the long rains were falling.”

“What do you think, Wolf?” Lord Kuro asked, looking up at him.

“Very good, my lord.” Wolf wasn’t familiar with poetry, nor did he give it much thought. Yet the string of words upon the page seemed to please his lord, and that was all he needed to know.

The nights remained quiet save for the occasional rustle of servants in the corridors, the plucked strings of shamisen nearby, the solemn call of an animal in the distance. Wolf remained unmoving in his perch on the roof, right above Lord Kuro’s room. The scent of sakura drifted through the window, and along with the faint sound of shallow breathing.

And then he heard the rustle of cloth.

Wolf went absolutely still, honing his senses, listening as feather-soft footsteps drifted from the window below.

The shoji sliding open was like the grind of granite in Wolf’s ears.

He slipped from his perch and landed on the window sill, just in time to see the shoji of his lord’s room slide shut. The futon was empty, the blankets rumpled. Wolf dashed across the room and slipped through the shoji into the darkened corridor.

He spotted the small figure of his lord at the end of the corridor. Even if Lord Kuro couldn’t be seen, Wolf still had his sakura-scent trail to follow. It lingered in the air, mild and sweet, as Wolf made his way down the corridor on silent steps.

Where was Lord Kuro going, and at such a late hour? They passed by the servants’ quarters and into the kitchen wing. Lord Kuro halted at the shoji and glanced around the corridor. His eyesight was not good in the darkness, not like Wolf’s.

Wolf stood. “My lord.”

Lord Kuro gasped, clutching his chest with a small hand. “Wolf!” he whispered. “What are you – How did you find me?” He peered closer, and his breath caught. “What happened to your eyes?”

Of course. This was the first time that Lord Kuro was seeing him in night’s shadow.

“They are always like this at night,” Wolf explained. In truth, he didn’t know how or why it happened, only that his eyes gleamed yellow whenever he was in dark spaces. It was the only explanation for why he could see so well in the dark.

Lord Kuro stared at him, his shock giving way to curiosity. Wolf strode forward and knelt on one knee, bowing his head. “Forgive me, my lord. It is not safe for you to go outside after hours.”

Lord Kuro huffed softly, though in an amused manner. “I won’t be too long. I just want to make some sweets.” With that, he slid the shoji open and went into the kitchen. Wolf followed without hesitation.

Moonlight streamed through the windows, falling in streaks over the kitchen floor and bathing pots and pans on the shelves. Lord Kuro flitted around the kitchen while Wolf moved around at a slower pace, eyeing the cooking tools and large vessels stacked in a corner. Lord Kuro soon settled at the table, small pots and jars arranged around his workspace.

“I can’t come here during the day,” he said in a hushed voice while he worked. “The cooks would catch me. So I have to come at night.”

“I see,” Wolf said. 

Although it was not in his place to question his master, Wolf wondered about the safety of these nightly excursions. Despite the patrol guards outside, there was always a risk of danger within. Surely his lord was aware of that.

 _There is no place in this world for youthful fancies,_ Owl once said. Throughout his life, Wolf only knew of blood and steel; there was never any time for rest. He now glanced at his lord, working at the table. Lord Kuro’s face was peaceful, content, even more so when he was reading poetry. There was none of the day’s heaviness upon him. Was this moment of relief what his father meant? 

A sweet smell reached Wolf’s nose. Cooked rice, though its scent was a little worn, leftover from the day. And … paste? _Red bean paste,_ Wolf realized. His stomach grumbled against his will.

“I’m almost done,” Lord Kuro said, and Wolf could hear the smile in his voice. “There!” his lord exclaimed, holding up a small, round object. A rice ball.

Wolf’s mouth watered at the sight. Memories flashed through his mind: rice balls dwarfed to the size of pebbles in his father’s large hand; rice balls packaged in bamboo leaves by the worn hands of a merchant –

Something rustled outside in the corridor. Wolf was instantly on guard, nostrils flaring, hand gripping the hilt of Kusabimaru, his katana. A passing servant, perhaps? Or a guard? Wolf strode over to the shoji and cracked it open. Nothing seemed out of place from what he could sense … 

There was only the lingering scent of a beta, at the end of the corridor. Likely a servant, but Wolf wasn’t about to take chances. “We should return, my lord.”

“I agree.” Behind him, Lord Kuro hurried to replace the tools and materials he’d used. Then he halted at Wolf’s side. “Anybody out there?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Wolf shook his head. “The way is clear.”

“Good.” Lord Kuro slid the shoji open further and stepped into the corridor, Wolf close at his heels.

They met no obstacles on the way back. Occasionally Wolf drew his lord to the side as a servant passed by ahead, or a guard’s lantern bobbed between the windows outside. Once they were inside Lord Kuro’s room, his lord exhaled with relief and even laughed a little. 

“My uncle caught me last time,” he said. “So I stayed away for a while. But I always planned to go back, and I promised myself I wouldn’t get caught again.”

“You were successful, my lord,” Wolf offered.

Lord Kuro’s mouth curled mischievously. “Not exactly. You caught me, didn’t you?”

Wolf lowered his gaze. Even if he’d known his lord’s thought beforehand, he still would’ve followed. He must make sure Lord Kuro was safe. He wasn’t going to let his lord go out alone with no protection.

“I’m glad you were with me, though,” Lord Kuro continued. “You’d know if there was someone following us, right?”

Wolf nodded once.

Lord Kuro stepped closer to him. Wolf automatically dropped to one knee. “Here, Wolf,” his lord said. “You can have this one, if you want it.”

He held out a small package. Wolf’s brow furrowed as he took it; the bamboo leaves fell away to reveal … A rice ball.

“I made two,” his lord said. “Do you like sweets?”

Wolf held the rice ball in his hand, as gingerly as he had held his first shuriken. When was the last time he’d had one of these? “I will eat anything.”

“Which means you don’t dislike sweets, then. Eat it, don’t be shy!” Eagerness shone in Lord Kuro’s face.

Wolf stared at the rice ball. A rumble of pleasure built in his throat at receiving his young – his _lord’s_ gift, but he pushed it down. Betas did not make such sounds, and he couldn’t risk giving himself away even if Lord Kuro thought nothing of it.

“If I may, my lord,” he said. “I will eat it after you’ve retired.”

His lord’s smile widened. He appeared to hold back a laugh. “Very well, Wolf. I hope you like it.”

Wolf was thrown. By the time he thought of a proper reply, Lord Kuro was already settled in his futon and fast asleep.

Silently, Wolf slipped through the window and crouched upon the roof. The sweet aroma of the rice ball tickled his nose as he bit into it, and the rich flavour burst over his tongue. This time he allowed a soft rumble of satisfaction to sound in the back of his throat.

“It is nearly time for you to learn the ways of the katana,” Lord Morimasa said the following morning.

Lord Kuro bowed his head in acknowledgement. Wolf couldn’t see his expression; he stood near the wall behind his lord.

“You will do well,” Lord Morimasa continued. “You’ve had practice with the tantō, yes?”

“Not in fighting,” Lord Kuro said. There was no hesitancy in his words – a lord couldn’t show weakness before his people, even the servants who stood nearby – but there was a hint of a waver in his voice that let Wolf know of his lord’s uncertainty.

“You have good posture, and you know some forms already,” Lord Morimasa said. A smile formed on his face. “You will make a fine warrior.”

Perhaps Lord Kuro returned the smile. Wolf imagined that he did. For all the dignity and nobility that he carried himself with, he was still a boy, and a kindly one at that. Wolf’s gaze settled on Lord Morimasa, who was taking a sip from his cup. Despite the fact that they were both alphas, Wolf felt no instinct to compete with him for Lord Kuro’s protection. Lord Kuro was Lord Morimasa's nephew, which in turn raised Wolf’s respect for the older man.

Lord Morimasa set his cup down with a thud. Wolf frowned. The lord’s forehead shone with a thin layer of sweat, and his chest rose and fell with effort. Wolf took a step forward.

Lord Kuro seemed to notice at the same time. “Uncle? Are you well?”

Lord Morimasa’s reply died in his throat.

Wolf was at his side just before he fell onto the floor. The man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“Uncle!” Lord Kuro cried, leaping up. At the same time, Lord Morimasa’s retainers rushed to his side, taking him from Wolf’s arms.

“He’s unconscious,” one of them said.

Lord Kuro turned to the agitated servants nearby. “Send for the healers. _Now!_ ”

The Hirata Estate thrummed with anxious energy throughout the afternoon, a hive of whispered rumours and scurrying feet. Wolf kept close to Lord Kuro, hackles on the verge of rising whenever somebody, whether alpha or beta, came too close.

Advisers and retainers, vassals and servants, all of them here to see Lord Kuro. With no other lord to fall upon, and as Lord Morimasa’s heir, it was only logical that they came to the young lord. Reports were brought, along with condolences for Lord Morimasa’s predicament. Throughout it all, Lord Kuro held himself tall despite the commotion, yet Wolf could see the tension in his lord’s frame, threatening to burst under the strain.

“Lord Morimasa is stable for now,” one of the healers reported. “He is under fever, and we are currently checking his food.”

Lord Kuro stiffened. “You mean – poison?”

“It’s a possibility.”

“But all of our food is tested beforehand!”

Wolf thought back to the previous night. The scent that he’d caught down the corridor …

One of Lord Morimasa’s retainers stepped forward with a bow. His brief glance at Wolf was tinged with disdain. “Lord Kuro, I will have the cooks and servants investigated. The poison may have been slipped into the food after testing.”

Lord Kuro’s mask of composure cracked, and the reek of fear around him intensified. “Very well, Master Nogami.”

Later that night, in the seclusion of Lord Kuro’s room, Wolf turned his gaze away as his lord wept. An ache appeared in Wolf’s chest, tugging him forward. He wanted to hold the child close and keep him safe, and – 

_No._ Wolf gritted his teeth. He must keep these instincts down or risk discovery. Yet as he listened to his lord’s unsteady breaths, a whine built in his throat. What could he do to ease the child? What comfort could he offer?

Lord Kuro fell silent after a moment, unmoving where he knelt on the futon, and gazed out the window. The moon was covered by clouds, and no stars could be seen.

“Wolf,” he said, quieter than a breath. “My uncle will live. He will get well and live.”

“Yes, my lord.” It was too early to tell; Lord Morimasa remained unconscious, and the retainer – Nogami Gensai, was still leading the investigation. Yet Wolf bowed his head, adding, “He is a strong man.”

“He is,” Lord Kuro agreed, and his voice broke.

Lord Morimasa did not wake the next morning, nor in the following days. The healers were at a loss; the food came up with no results, and nobody could think of an explanation. Tonics, ointments, nothing seemed to work in drawing Lord Morimasa out of his unconscious state.

And so Lord Kuro took on his uncle’s duties. He met with the advisers each morning, greeting them all with practiced composure. Wolf remained close, keeping a careful eye for any threat to his lord.

The cause of Lord Morimasa’s condition was of course discussed. “It must be an attack from the neighbouring clans, my lord,” one of the advisors, General Nobuharu, insisted. “More likely from Tokugawa himself!”

“I agree, my lord,” Fujikage, the senior secretary, said. “Tokugawa and his Interior Ministry are determined to see Ashina fall. If Lord Morimasa perishes –”

He stopped himself. Lord Kuro’s gaze upon him was sharp.

“Your pardon, my lord,” he murmured.

“If my uncle perishes,” Lord Kuro said, “his lordship will fall to me. And I will never surrender to the Ministry.”

The alpha in Wolf reared with pride, yet the more rational part of him knew that this was something Lord Kuro couldn’t guarantee. He was still a child, and Tokugawa Ieyasu’s Interior Ministry, from what Wolf knew, was steadily taking control of Japan’s clans. And the land of Ashina, led by the great sword saint, Ashina Isshin, was a diminished clan. They didn’t have much of a chance against Tokugawa.

Normally he wouldn’t give much thought to the clans and their feuds, yet this was different. The Hirata Clan was a vassal of Ashina, and whether Ashina or Hirata fell first, the result was the same: Lord Kuro would fall in the carnage.

Wolf’s fist clenched. He’d take his lord away from here before that happened.

A few more reports followed the discussion of Lord Morimasa, and after the meeting was finished for the day, Lord Kuro resumed his studies. When it was time for the midday meal, servants brought a tray of food, led by Gensai.

“My lord,” the retainer said with a bow, “I oversaw the testing. The food is clean.”

Lord Kuro nodded in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Master Nogami.”

Soon it was just Wolf and his lord in the room. Lord Kuro stared at his food for a moment before taking up the chopsticks.

Before he could take a bite, however, the sound of several footsteps thundered down the hall. Wolf’s hand flew to Kusabimaru’s hilt, and the shoji slid open to allow one of the healers inside.

“My lord,” he gasped, falling to his knees, pressing his forehead to the floor.

“What is it?” Lord Kuro asked, extremely still.

“Lord Morimasa – he has passed away.”


	3. Attack in the Night

The funeral was held two days later. The procession included Lord Morimasa’s vassals, retainers, high officials, court ladies, and servants. Beyond the walls of the main estate, Wolf heard the faint wailing of the Hirata Clan’s people as they grieved.

Lord Kuro stood at the head of the procession. His face was dry of tears, and he remained silent, unlike the sobbing court ladies.

What Wolf had assumed about Lord Morimasa, he knew for certain about Lord Kuro. His lord was strong, bearing the news of his uncle’s death better than expected, even for a child. Wolf was certain he’d lead his clan with the utmost ability.

The funeral pyre went up in flames, crackling and popping, smoke rising into the clouded sky. The stench of smoke mingled with a familiar metallic scent – not of armour, but a coming storm. As if to prove Wolf’s thought, thunder rolled in the distance.

Fortunately the funeral concluded, rites and all, just before the first raindrops fell. Wolf all but hurried his young lord under a roof to keep dry, even though it was only a drizzle. Lord Kuro gazed at his uncle’s burial mound; his eyes were bright but he still didn’t allow the tears to fall in the open.

“My lord.” Wolf spoke as softly as he could manage. “Shall we go inside?”

Lord Kuro took a deep breath and nodded. He remained close to Wolf as they went inside, and Wolf hoped that his presence was enough to provide some comfort, at least.

Lord Kuro’s genpuku ceremony took place shortly after, marking the exchange of his childhood status to adult status. Wolf learned that, had Lord Morimasa lived, the ceremony would’ve been held when Lord Kuro turned fifteen. However, now that his lord was expected to take his uncle’s place, his transition to adulthood must arrive sooner.

The event itself was a formal affair; with Lord Morimasa dead and no other possible candidate to back Lord Kuro, a representative of Ashina Isshin arrived to oversee the ceremony. Wolf watched from nearby as his lord was given the rite, knowing only what his father had mentioned of these ceremonies. The nobles were extravagant, flamboyant. Wolf never had a genpuku to mark his own transition; instead, Owl had set him on a difficult mission to test his skills, and Wolf passed it.

With Lord Kuro now leading the Hirata Clan, Wolf was more on edge than usual. As stout as his lord was, there were still others of older age and greater experience who were caught in a search for power. Wolf had seen it before in other lords, and he did not want to see Lord Kuro used as a pawn. His hackles rose at the mere thought of it.

Nothing arose from the investigation into Lord Morimasa’s death, to Lord Kuro’s frustration and worry. Poison remained the highest suspect; whoever administered it must have left as soon as the deed was done. Each dish that Lord Kuro took for his meals was tested with extra care, and he did not enter the kitchens again to make sweets.

Wolf remained at his lord’s side without rest or reprieve. No further incident took place as the week passed into the next, not until Owl arrived one day.

“Lord Kuro,” he said with a brisk bow. “I require my apprentice for a mission. It will last only a few days, and then he’ll be back to serve you.”

Wolf’s mouth twitched downward, but he said nothing. As per the Iron Code of the shinobi, he never spoke against his father.

Lord Kuro agreed to it, and Wolf later found himself kneeling before his lord at the estate’s gates.

“I trust you will stay safe, Wolf,” Lord Kuro said. “Return whole and unharmed.”

“I will, my lord,” Wolf murmured. He couldn’t guarantee returning without a scratch, but for his lord he’d do anything.

He stood to leave, yet he hesitated, looking back at his lord. When had he grown to fear leaving him? The child was not his young, but Wolf guarded him as though he was. There was no denying that.

Lord Kuro smiled, and in a low voice he said, “I will be safe too. I’ll be waiting for you.”

It wasn’t enough to ease Wolf, but it would have to do. There were other retainers on the watch. Lord Kuro was well protected.

Owl was waiting.

Wolf bowed a final time and departed.  _ I will return, my lord. _

The mission passed by in a blur. There was an itch inside Wolf that he couldn’t reach, nagging at him day by day, driving him into a foul mood. His skin tingled, and not from the cold. By the time he finished his work and reported to his father, Wolf was full of anxious energy. It was something he couldn’t quite place – it wasn’t even an urge to return to his lord’s side, though he felt that as well. This was something different. Years of experience had taught him to trust his instincts, and he wasn’t about to disregard it. 

Despite not being far from the estate, Wolf felt as though a mountain range lay between them.

He could smell Lord Kuro’s scent upon the air as he hurried through trees and over cliffs – or perhaps it was the residue on his clothes. His grappling hook saved considerable time. It was a recent gift from his lord, new and well-crafted, given to Wolf after he’d learned that his shinobi’s previous one was getting old and worn. It fit snuggly to Wolf’s left arm, a reminder of what he’d left behind at the Hirata Estate.

His heart raced as he crested the next cliff and saw the estate down below, caught in an orange blaze.

Wolf wanted to howl, but he couldn’t even open his mouth. For a heartbeat, he stood there, frozen, watching as flames licked at the estate’s outer gates. A lake lay between them; small figures in red armour patrolled the connecting bridge. Wolf growled at the sight of the Red Guards.

_ The Ministry. They’ve attacked. _

_ My lord! _

He wasted no time in leaping down from the cliff, heading toward the gate, veiled in shadow. Kusabimaru rang as it left its scabbard, singing as it pierced through the Red Guards’ throats.

Further up from the bridge was the outer gate, and behind that, the Hirata Clan’s people. A few of their houses were already ablaze, and the alleys were filled with Red Guards at every turn. Red Guards holding torches, flame throwers, flaming arrows.

Wolf bared his teeth, snarling, and cut them all down.

He was not the only one fighting. As he hurried further up the hill, toward the main estates, he spotted samurai armoured with Hirata’s sigil, and retainers dressed in Hirata’s uniforms. Whether they were holding up well or not, Wolf spared no second glance. His grappling hook sang through the air, latching onto every ledge, every crevice, lifting him with ease. He was getting closer, closer …

The estate’s gate was burning, but the courtyard immediately inside was yet untouched. A group of samurai, led by one of Lord Morimasa’s vassals, General Nobuharu, stood guard within. Wolf landed soundly before the general.

“You –” Nobuharu peered closer. “You’re the young lord’s shinobi!”

“Where is Lord Kuro?” Wolf all but growled. 

“He’s in the hidden temple. You’d best hurry –”

They were interrupted by a sudden battle cry.  _ Red Guards. _ Wolf grappled onto the nearest roof just as the Guards engaged in battle with Nobuharu’s samurai. From this vantage point Wolf swept a critical eye over the fight. Nobuharu’s forces were just barely outnumbered; more Red Guards were nearing the gate, not to mention a large samurai wearing red armour of a more ornate design than the others. He was flanked by several Guards, undoubtedly the leader of this attack.

Wolf’s nostrils flared, and his lips curled against his teeth.  _ Alpha. _

Down below, Nobuharu raised his blade, armour splattered with blood. Around him lay fallen Guards.

“Hear me!” he cried. “None shall pass while I still stand!”

“Then I will make quick work of you,” the oncoming leader declared in a booming voice. “You face Sadatsugu Maeda!”

A general of the Ministry’s troops. Another burden on Lord Kuro’s shoulders.

If he fell, the troops would fall into confusion, making it easier to flush them out of the estate.

Wolf gripped Kusabimaru’s hilt and leapt down, landing soundly near Nobuharu. He met the latter’s gaze, and an understanding passed between them.

Everything around them faded as Wolf focused on Sadatsugu. He sensed, more than saw, Nobuharu lifting his own katana. Two blades working against one, and for the sake of their shared lord, was a force to reckon with.

The clash of their blades rang through the air. Sadatsugu moved quickly for someone so large, but Wolf was quicker. He wasn’t about to let the fight go on for longer than it should. Nor could he let this enemy of his lord live.

Sadatsugu suddenly thrust his blade forward. In a split second, Nobuharu’s foot came down it, holding it to the ground, and Wolf took the opportunity to drive Kusabimaru through the general’s throat. Blood sprayed into the air, and Sadatsugu fell with a heavy thud.

Wolf straightened up, noticing just then that Nobuharu’s samurai were standing idle. There were no Red Guards about, save for the ones that lay on the group, soaking the dirt with dark blood. Down the hill from the estate’s gate, he heard a panicked cry:

“Lord Sadatsugu is dead!”

“What of the reinforcements?”

“Shinobi,” Nobuharu said, and Wolf turned to him. “You have my thanks. We will take care of the rest.”

Wolf gave a brisk nod of acknowledgement and turned to enter the main estate. Lord Kuro was waiting for him.

* * *

Owl watched from afar, perched upon a cliff, deep in thought. His vantage point overlooked the Hirata Estate, worn yet victorious after the Interior Ministry’s attack.

So the Hirata Clan wasn’t as weak as he’d thought. Lord Kuro had some knowledge on how to utilize his military, small as it was. Not to mention the Ministry had acted too soon, to boldly. For all that talk of Tokugawa fearing the Ashina Clan, he was certainly eager to see them fall.

Owl picked up a shift in the air. A second later, Lady Butterfly landed beside him at the edge of the cliff.

“Isshin sent a small force of samurai,” she said. “They’ll reach Hirata by nightfall.”

That was to be expected. Ashina Isshin needed his vassals’ support if he was going to win the war against Tokugawa. And with Lord Kuro’s gift, it only made keeping him alive all the more imperative.

It was also expected that Kuro wouldn’t retreat to a safer place. The young lord needed to set an example, both to his people and to Tokugawa, that his clan was not weak and could not be defeated.

Owl’s thoughts turned to the attack of the previous night. It had been a close decision. He could have made his move, but he chose to wait. There were too many guards around the boy, too many samurai posted around the estates. Even though he had the skill and strength to cut them all down, he preferred to remain in the shadows, orchestrating from a distance like he’d done with Morimasa’s death. If he was going to get what he wanted, he couldn’t risk a hasty move.

In any case, the event hadn’t been a complete waste. The mission that Owl put his cub through yielded some results. Wolf had grown far more attached to Kuro than he’d expected. Others wouldn’t notice, but to those who had raised him, trained him … Owl recognized the instinct to protect an alpha’s young when he saw it.

“We’ll have to wait until the samurai are called away,” Owl said.

“And what of the boy?” Butterfly asked.

Owl grunted. 

“Better to do it now than wait until he’s older. He hasn’t presented yet. He might move away from Wolf if he turns out to be an alpha.”

That was one setback to the whole lot of this, but Owl never went in unprepared. He’d manipulated other alphas before, many lords and generals. Their strength and dominance led to over-confidence and a want for power, and that was easy to use.

But Kuro … He was a mild-mannered boy, diligent and noble. If he presented as an alpha, Owl would have to tread carefully. 

Butterfly seemed to read his thoughts. “The cub could give us all away.”

“He’ll disappear from their sight before they can catch him,” Owl said, unconcerned.

“But if the boy is a beta, the cub could claim him.” 

Claim him as his  _ young. _ That ought to make things easier. The bond between an alpha and their young was strong, and Wolf wouldn’t leave the estate without Kuro in tow. Kuro would be drawn into the Usui Clan through his shinobi. With precision and patience, Owl could exert some influence over him as an alpha, as Wolf’s father, and as the leader of the clan. Admittedly this would rely on the strength of Kuro’s instincts as Wolf’s young, but instincts were strong, even impossible to ignore at times.

And as for the last one …

“An omega would be preferable.” Owl nearly rumbled with pleasure at the thought. Beside him, Butterfly’s lips quirked in a rare smile. She’d understand as a fellow alpha.

If he let Wolf claim the boy as a mate, Kuro would be attached to the Usui Clan, to Owl, whether Kuro wanted it or not. And once Wolf was taken care of, Owl would step in to fill the empty spot left by the cub. Gaining Kuro’s gift was all but assured.

But first, he must wait. Wait for the right moment to strike, and if the boy presented during that time, adapt his plans and continue on.

Down below, the Hirata Estate’s residents went about their work, unaware of the watchful eyes upon them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the game, this would've been the Ministry ambush where Lady Butterfly attacked Wolf etc. but I decided to make Hirata better off in this fic (and to give more time for relationship developments XD)
> 
> Your comments and kudos mean a lot :)


	4. The Presentation

Shortly after the Ministry’s attack, Kuro began his lessons with the katana. His retainer, Nogami Gensai, became his trainer, and they worked tirelessly in the dojo each day.

By the end of his lessons, Kuro was exhausted and drenched in sweat, aching all over, but he felt good. He needed to learn how to fight, how to protect himself at least. If not, how could he hope to protect his clan?

Nor could he look away from violence forever. The land of Ashina was at war. Kuro had known from the beginning that they were all caught in a battle. His uncle hadn’t wasted time in telling him, warning against those who would seek to take advantage of Kuro’s position and power. _If they learn of your Heritage,_ he’d said, _they will try to use you. You must be careful. Do you understand?_

 _Yes, Uncle,_ Kuro thought even now. _I will not let them have it._

He’d lost a number of people in the Ministry’s attack, citizens and samurai alike, and his heart beat heavily at the memory of them. For them he would continue the defence of his clan. He was not going to let their sacrifices be in vain.

There was much to think about: managing the military, meeting with his vassals, ensuring that the defences around the estates were secure. Lord Isshin’s additional samurai were much appreciated, yet Kuro often worried whether it was enough. Could they withstand another attack from the Ministry in the near future? When would they attack again, if ever?

_Uncle, is this what you faced? How did you get through it?_

What he would give to have Morimasa with him again … His uncle had left him an entire clan, and as much as he valued their support, he was still lonely. Set against the world with nothing to defend himself with –

“My lord.”

Kuro blinked and looked up, having just emerged from the baths. A warmth spread through his chest at the welcome sight, forming a smile on his face. “Loyal Wolf.”

His shinobi knelt on one knee before him, head bowed. Kuro didn’t know how he’d come to feel as he did, why he felt so happy to have Wolf with him. He remembered standing in the hidden temple surrounded by retainers, plagued with worry, while the Ministry’s attack raged on outside. And then, when his shinobi burst through the doors, katana in hand … Kuro had never been more relieved, more grateful, to see Wolf there. 

He’d later learned of how General Nobuharu and Wolf defeated one of the Ministry’s generals. Nobuharu provided much detail on Wolf’s skill, leaving Kuro in much thought.

Now he faced his shinobi fully. “Wolf, I have a request to make of you.”

Wolf looked up, waiting. His dark brown gaze held Kuro’s without faltering. “Anything, my lord.”

“You are skilled in stealth, yes?”

Wolf nodded.

“Will you teach me to do what you can?”

His shinobi’s lips parted open slightly. _Surprise._ Kuro hardly saw any emotion on Wolf’s face; this was a rare moment.

“My lord?” Wolf asked, hesitant.

“It will be useful to know in case there’s another attack,” Kuro said. His heart thumped against his ribs at the thought of crossing rooftops and leaping over barriers. And the grappling hook! That was certainly a useful thing to learn. Kuro imagined himself flying through the air, with only the grappling rope as his lifeline, and suppressed a nervous shudder.

“My lord,” Wolf said with a wary air, “it is my duty to protect you.”

“And I appreciate your work, Wolf. But I must learn to guard myself too. And you won’t stop protecting me while teaching me, right?”

His shinobi bowed his head further. “The training … It isn’t the safest,” he murmured.

Kuro tilted his head. He knew that Wolf had learned all he knew from the Great Shinobi Owl. In order to learn such elite skills, the training surely wasn’t going to be easy, and Kuro was ready for it. “I understand, Wolf.”

“My lord,” Wolf said again, and this time he raised his head. An odd gleam was in his eyes, not the yellow glow for darkness, but … If Kuro had to describe it, Wolf looked almost _pained._ “If I were to train you, I cannot guarantee that you will be left unharmed. What you ask of me …” He trailed off.

Kuro rested a hand on his shinobi’s shoulder. “It’s alright,” he said gently. “I’ll be careful, and you’ll keep an eye out for me. Maybe there’s a way for me to learn that’s safer.” There was no danger in bleeding; thanks to Kuro’s Heritage, he couldn’t bleed. But – his shinobi didn’t need to know that. It wasn’t for Kuro to spread around. “What do you say, Wolf?”

Wolf couldn’t reject him in the end, and Kuro felt a sliver of guilt at the thought of – well, _forcing_ was a strong word. _Ordering_ him to do so was more apt.

But it was necessary. Kuro needed to learn. He didn’t want to be useless forever as he was in the hidden temple. He’d made his uncle a promise to protect the clan, and he was going to keep it.

Wolf gazed at him for a heartbeat longer, then lowered his head with a quiet sigh. “Very well, my lord. I will do as you say.”

Kuro smiled. “Thank you, Wolf.”

His first lesson in stealth took place a few days later, at night. Their training area was one of the larger courtyards of the estates, lined with tall grasses. “The grasses will help to mask your scent, if only a little,” Wolf explained. “It helps with betas especially. Alphas are harder to fool.”

Wolf showed Kuro how to move through grasses in silence, keeping at a crouch that made Kuro’s thighs burn. As much as he tried to keep quiet, his footsteps were just too loud, and his heart sunk lower with each loud rustle of the stalks around him.

“Patience, my lord,” Wolf murmured.

Kuro exhaled slowly. Yes, he must stay patient. This was only his first lesson, after all. Therefore, he kept low amidst the grass stalks, trying to ignore the fire in his legs, and followed his shinobi.

After a few rounds around the courtyard, Kuro was certain he’d never be able to use his legs again. He managed to return to his bedchamber, turning away his shinobi’s offer to carry him, and collapsed onto the futon.

“My lord, you must stretch your legs,” Wolf said, “or you will be very sore tomorrow.”

“I feel sore already,” Kuro huffed, but he did as Wolf said, massaging his thigh muscles with weary hands. Is this how Wolf felt after he finished whatever missions Owl set for him? Or was he already used to the aches? He’d trained for years and years, so perhaps he was immune to it all.

Would Kuro ever grow immune to it?

Wolf disappeared into the bath chamber and returned with a damp cloth. Kuro thanked him and took it, wiping his face and arms of sweat.

“My lord,” Wolf said, watching with an air of worry. “Are you still certain about this?”

“Yes,” Kuro said in a tone that brooked no argument. There was still a long way to go, and many aching limbs to suffer through, but he was determined to continue.

The next morning, Kuro could hardly stand. His servants fluttered over him in dismay, and his advisors inquired after his health. To Kuro’s mingled amusement and exasperation, Wolf kept his gaze to the floor, unable to even look at him.

“Wolf, it’s just a bit of soreness,” Kuro said in an attempt to ease his shinobi. “I’m fine! I’m standing upright.”

Despite Wolf’s apparent shame at hurting his lord, the lessons continued over the next few weeks. Combined with his sword training, Kuro was left aching each day, but he pushed through it, and over time it became a bit more bearable.

Nor did Kuro find his stealth lessons particularly unpleasant. He watched carefully as Wolf dashed past the night patrol, unseen and unheard, a mere shadow in the night. His movements were graceful, in a way, and fascinating to watch without distraction. As a demonstration, Wolf leapt up onto the nearest rooftop, and Kuro gasped softly. How lithe and light his shinobi moved!

A moment later, Wolf dropped down soundlessly next to Kuro. Heat rose up Kuro’s neck, and he hastily averted his gaze, though the small smile refused to leave his face.

“In time you will learn to do as I did,” Wolf said. His voice was a mere rumble, pleasant against Kuro’s ears. “For now, as a small test, I will ask my lord to pass through _there."_

He pointed, and Kuro followed his direction. His eyes widened as he realized what Wolf was asking him to do.

Beyond the courtyard was a narrow alley that led between buildings, opening out into a smaller courtyard beyond. A guard stood just several feet from the alley’s entry.

“But – the guard,” Kuro blurted in a whisper. His heart now pounded out of nerves rather than embarrassment. “What if he sees me?”

“I have faith that they will not,” Wolf assured him. “You’ve been doing very well. But if he does appear to notice, I will distract him.”

Kuro took a deep breath, and then another. _It’s all part of the training,_ he reminded himself. Crouching low, he made his way around the courtyard, hidden by the tall stalks. His feet wobbled and the familiar burn began to assault his legs, but he pressed on. It felt like hours before he finally neared the alley, though it must’ve been at least several minutes, given how slow he went.

The guard seemed closer to the alley than Kuro originally thought. He crept closer on bare feet, as quiet as he could, hardly daring to breathe lest the guard hear him. He was just a foot away from the alley … He was at the corner! Steeling himself, Kuro ducked into it, slipping past the guard and scurrying to the end of the path. Once there, he ducked down into another cluster of tall grasses, and waited.

The moment Wolf dropped down at his side, Kuro looked to him expectantly. “How did I do?”

Wolf inclined his head. “You passed, my lord.”

Kuro exhaled with relief. He’d done it! He’d passed Wolf’s test! 

“Well done,” Wolf said.

Kuro beamed at him. It was a small feat, and there would be many other tests to come. But for now, Kuro took satisfaction in this little victory.

And was just it his imagination, or was that a glimmer of pride in his shinobi’s gaze?

Kuro looked away, pretending to scan the area for more guards. He hoped his hair was enough to hide his over-warm cheeks.

* * *

A year passed, and then another, and another.

Wolf usually paid no attention to birthdays. He couldn’t remember his own. He kept track of the passing years only by the growing trees, the change of weather, and sometimes the passing mention that his father might make.

His rut cycles came regularly. Wolf suffered through them in silence, having been trained long ago to handle them, even without suppressants. Nevertheless, Owl sent him separate herbs to curb his ruts and avoid suspicion from Hirata’s residents. Even with scent-masking herbs, a spike always went up in an alpha’s scent during rut, and Wolf couldn’t afford to alert others with it.

News arrived of battles fought by other clans, either against the Interior Ministry or against each other. Ashina, and the Hirata Clan within it, remained unbothered for the time being. The Hirata Estate remained on guard, keeping watch for any oncoming attack.

He continued to teach his lord the ways of stealth. They moved from the tall grasses of the courtyard to the houses outside the main estates, slipping through alleys and avoiding the patrols. Within a year they moved up onto the buildings, leaping over roofs and gaps. Lord Kuro learned swiftly, and when he followed Wolf’s footsteps, he moved with the grace and speed of flowing water. 

Wolf watched with all the pride an alpha could bear. He’d adjusted the training so that it wasn’t so dangerous for Lord Kuro; he wouldn’t put him through the training that Owl had done to Wolf. Treetops, cliffsides, barely holding on by his fingertips, pushed onward by the sheer force of fear and adrenaline. No, that was not for Lord Kuro.

Despite this, his lord made good progress. He was getting stronger, quicker, even with his sword training. There was something beautiful in the way Lord Kuro leapt, spun, attacked and parried. The katana sang in his hand as he arched it through the air.

Not to mention his lord’s oncoming adulthood was shaping him remarkably well – 

Wolf froze. What did he – How could he sully his lord’s dignity with such thoughts? He cursed himself, and the treasonous heat in his face.

It was hard _not_ to notice the change, though. Children grew quickly, or so he’d heard before from passing villagers. Only now did he realize how true it was.

His lord’s hair, once short at the chin, now brushed against his shoulders. The grey strands in his dark locks remained, glimmering whenever he passed under moonlight. His lord took to wearing his hair up in a topknot during the day, revealing the curve of his pale neck. His porcelain face, also, became lean with softened angles.

And his height! Lord Kuro had started at Wolf’s chest. After four years, five, six, he was now at a height with Wolf, if not an inch or two shorter. Wolf was near certain that his lord would soon overpass him. Part of him knew that it was only fitting, but the other part of him – the alpha in him – shifted with uncertainty.

Alphas were commonly tall and strong, yet Wolf had always been shorter than most … It didn't matter, he told himself firmly. It added to his facade as a beta. He’d long since ignored the instinct to _tower_ over betas and be _equal_ to other alphas. It wasn’t his concern. His lord was his priority.

And yet none of this could compare with the most sudden change of all.

Wolf hadn’t been expecting it. Looking back, he should have kept a better track of the years, of his lord’s shifting scent – Wolf berated himself for not realizing it sooner. His scent! The pleasant aroma of sweet sakura flowers, light and lilting, had begun to change ever so slightly. Thickening, growing heavier, taking on a presence of its own. It pulled Wolf closer to Lord Kuro, enticing, teasing his senses, though he hadn’t paid enough attention at the time. And now –

Owl stood over him on the roof, heavy brows furrowed and strong arms crossed. Wolf held the palm-sized pouch of herbs in his hand, staring at it uncomprehendingly. “Father –”

“Have you forgotten everything I taught you?” Owl harrumphed. “You’ve lost your edge, boy. Your lord turns fifteen tomorrow.”

Wolf was speechless. At that moment, Lord Kuro’s words from a week ago came back to him: _I’m afraid we’ll have to halt my stealth lessons for now. But don’t worry, Wolf. We’ll continue them soon._

And Wolf had bowed his head. _Yes, my lord._

Perhaps Lord Kuro thought that he’d understood. Wolf had wondered about the sudden cancellation, but didn’t ask about it. But now … Now it made sense.

“Take these herbs with your tea, or you might give yourself away when he presents. They’ll last you the whole week, so use them sparingly.”

 _Presents._ The word echoed in Wolf’s ears. His lord’s presentation. How had he forgotten …?

“And you’ve got the suppressants for your cycle?” Owl continued. “Good. Better take them now, as a precaution.”

Before Wolf could say anything, Owl was already gone.

By dawn, Wolf finished his tea, having thoroughly mixed a good amount of herbs into the hot water. Nobody noticed – he’d taken it in private, after all – and he returned to Lord Kuro’s rooms before his lord was even awake. The new pouch of herbs Owl gave him weighed heavily in the folds of his innermost clothing. Now he had _three_ types of herb to keep track of: sense-dulling, scent-masking, and rut-suppressant. 

He was the first one Lord Kuro saw when the latter awoke. “Wolf! Good morning.”

Wolf dipped into his usual kneel. His nostrils flared; Lord Kuro’s scent was dulled. The herbs worked quickly, thank the gods. But when would his lord present?

There was a current of energy in the air, running through the whole of the Hirata Estate. Servants led by Lady Nogami surrounded Lord Kuro as he went about his daily schedule. It was then that Wolf noted the lack of meetings: his lord went to his sword training with Nogami Gensai, a beta, and only attended his studies with the tutor who was a beta. During his mealtimes, the servants remained close by, though they kept a sizable berth around Wolf.

They’d done this for the past week now that Wolf thought about it. He’d noticed the complete absence of alphas whenever Lord Kuro passed through corridors and chambers, but he hadn’t thought to attribute it to – this.

Perhaps Owl was right. He was losing his edge.

Lord Kuro looked up at him from his dish of rice. “Are you alright, Wolf?”

Wolf remembered himself and bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.”

Lord Kuro could only be around betas at this time. And yet, here Wolf was, a full-grown alpha masked only by a small pouch of herbs. The tea worked to soften his senses, and Wolf was filled with a rush of gratitude for it. If he had not taken the tea …

The afternoon passed as any other, and soon Wolf found himself within Lord Kuro’s room, his back turned as his lord was dressed for the night. This time, however, the servants did not leave. They shook out two extra futons on either side of Lord Kuro’s, and Wolf realized that they were going to spend the night at his lord’s side.

Lord Kuro stepped up to him. His hair was rimmed with candlelight, and his cheeks were the rosy colour of deep sakura.

Wolf quickly bowed his head, face suddenly warm. “My lord. I –” He cleared his throat. “I trust you will be alright?”

“Of course, Wolf.” He could hear the smile in his lord’s voice. “Besides, it might not even happen this year. Some presentations happen at sixteen.”

Wolf remained uneasy, but he managed to hide it.

“Until tomorrow, then,” Lord Kuro said.

Wolf bowed his head further. “My lord,” he replied, then departed through the window and lifted himself onto the rooftop. The night was a clear one, and the courtyard below was bathed in moonlight. Wolf took a breath to steady himself, and settled in for the night.

It was near midnight when he caught the heady scent.

His hands, resting upon the knees of his crossed legs, dug into the fabric of his hakama. The tea was still at work, and Wolf only knew it because he _knew_ the scent of one in heat. He’d caught a few whiffs of it before, scattered throughout his years, but only on journeys with his father that took them past small houses and little villages.

This … this scent was not fully strong to him, not with the tea. But _gods,_ he could smell the potential, the power behind the aroma, what it would be in full if he hadn’t used Owl’s herbs. Even in its dulled state, his lord’s scent wrapped around him, filling his nose, calling to every alpha’s instinct within him.

To his horror his cock twitched, seeping with warmth. _His rut._ It was starting! He’d taken the suppressant herbs (thank the gods!), but with Lord Kuro’s heat, the alpha in him couldn’t help but react.

Wolf squeezed his eyes shut and focused his mind on nothing. He put to effect the breathing techniques he’d learned from both Owl, and his other mentor, Lady Butterfly. He attempted to shut his ears to the shifting of movement below as the servants worked to keep Lord Kuro at ease. He tried not to listen to the heavy breaths of his lord and the occasional soft moan of need, of discomfort. _Anything_ to keep his mind off of Lord Kuro’s heat.

He couldn’t leave his position on the roof. It was already common knowledge that he remained there during the night, and someone would surely notice his absence. He could only sit there, as still as he could, surrounded by his lord’s scent.

His lord. _An omega._ The alpha in him rumbled with eagerness, but Wolf forcefully pushed that instinct down.

Each breath, even the smallest one, cracked the walls of his control.

And so the night dragged on.

* * *

Wind howled around Ashina Castle, assaulting its walls and towers. Nothing had yet breached the home of Ashina’s lords, and many now thought that nothing ever would.

Within one of the castle’s towers, in a lordly bedchamber, a piece of news was shared.

“An omega, you say?”

“Yes, my lord. He entered his heat two nights ago.”

Ashina Isshin lounged back on his futon, facing both his grandson and the messenger. Young Kuro, an omega! How curious. Omegas were not so common in these parts of Japan. Nor would he have expected Hirata Morimasa’s nephew to present as such. An alpha was more likely, or a beta. But an omega …

Then again, Kuro was the Divine Heir. That must have something to do with it. The last Divine Heir, Takeru, had presented as the same … 

“My lord?” the messenger asked, looking uncertain.

“Hmm? Oh, very well. You may go,” Isshin said. “I will send for you later to take my reply.”

The messenger bowed and departed.

Isshin turned to his grandson. Genichiro knelt next to the futon, his gaze lowered, yet there was a slight furrow between his brows that usually appeared whenever he was deep in thought. The corner of Isshin’s mouth twitched upward.

“Well?” he said. “What do you think of this?”

“He is in more danger than before,” Genichiro replied immediately. “Every alpha claiming some nobility and influence in Hirata will seek him. Even those in Ashina. They’ll want his power, and his bloodline –”

Genichiro fell abruptly silent, a deep frown on his face.

Isshin rubbed his chin as he regarded the younger man. “You are right. He’ll draw them like flies to honey whether or not he wants them.”

His grandson looked up at him sharply. “You don’t mean to –?”

“Of course not. Hirata is my strongest vassal now, and one of the few that remain. I cannot lose him.” It was unfortunate. Ashina was already dealing with a war; the last thing they needed was a civil conflict around one omega. Not that Isshin blamed Kuro. No one could help their presentation. It only mattered on how you used it, wove it into your plans.

He refocused on Genichiro. His fine grandson, Ashina’s renowned general, and a strong alpha. The military looked up to him, admired him, even feared him at times. It was thanks to Genichiro that they’d managed to keep some semblance of peace in the land for the past few years. 

“What Kuro needs,” Isshin said slowly, deliberately, “is a betrothal. Promise him off early, and no other alpha will touch him.”

Genichiro stared at him. “Grandfather,” he said, barely containing his impatience, “until the Divine Heir is _mated,_ other alphas can – and will – dare to move forward.”

“We can give him guards, if there’s enough to spare, though I hear Kuro has enough already. And he will be scent-marked. No one will come near him with Ashina’s scent upon him.”

Genichiro’s eyes narrowed. “And do you have a candidate in mind for his mate?”

Isshin grinned. “Who better than you, my grandson, heir to Ashina and a comely man to boot?”

He threw his head back and laughed at the look of mingled shock and exasperation on Genichiro’s face.

* * *

Deep in the grey mists of Usui Forest, Owl prepared a new pouch of herbs for his cub.

He sensed, more than saw, Lady Butterfly’s arrival. “What’s this I hear?” she asked. “Isshin is giving the boy to that grandson of his?”

“It’s to be expected,” Owl said, weighing the pouch in his large hand. “An omega surrounded by alphas, even if they’re few, will lead to more bloodshed than Isshin needs.”

He reached into the pouch, took a pinch of the herbs, and let them drift away into the mists.

“Are you sure about this?” Butterfly asked.

“He’s gotten soft around the boy. This will only give him the push he needs.”

“He may be soft, but he’s not stupid. He will suspect something different.”

“If he does, he won’t say anything.” Owl weighed the pouch again. The amount was enough to ensure that Wolf’s scent would be masked to others. But to Kuro, with senses heightened from his presentation, he’d find himself drawn to Wolf whenever they stood close. Omegas were especially sensitive to the scents of alphas, after all.

Butterfly’s humourless laugh drew him out of his thoughts. “Be wary, Ukonzaemon. Tighten the leash, or your dog will escape.”

Owl paid her no mind as she departed. His son was loyal to a fault. He’d trained Wolf to his fullest extent, driving the Iron Code into his mind and testing him unceasingly until he was certain Wolf’s obedience was blind.

With his preparations finished, Owl sped through the forest, quicker than all the birds of prey that dwelled there.


	5. Many Gracious Gifts

From a wide selection of tantō blades in the armoury, Genichiro selected one with a black leather hilt. The hilt itself was wrapped with a red cord and tied off with jade beads. Beautifully crafted, and a fitting gift for the Divine Heir. 

The messenger spoke of Kuro’s advancements in training. One day Genichiro would see for himself how Hirata’s lord moved with a blade, but until then, he must see to Ashina’s defences.

 _They say he’s swift as a dragon. It’s like he’s_ dancing _when he fights._

Genichiro wasn’t surprised. The boy was the Divine Heir. He was not unfamiliar with the otherworldly traits of those related to the dragon. And dancing …

For a brief moment, he thought of his late mentor, Tomoe. Did the Divine Heir’s movement flow as well as hers? Could he leap through the air as though in flight, as she used to do? He’d seen the Divine Heir only once before, many years ago when the boy was still small, and during a formal occasion at that. Kuro had been quiet, reserved, and very polite. 

_Now he’s an omega. And my future mate._

Nobody could fault the match. Marriages were commonly arranged to form alliances between families. With the war against the Interior Ministry, Genichiro had had no time to consider a selection of wives, though he knew how important it was to carry on the family line. 

Genichiro carefully rubbed his wrist against the chosen tantō, marking it with his scent, and placed it in an ornate box. He also marked the lid. _For you, Divine Heir._

It was the start of their courting. The box would be taken to the Hirata Estate and given to Kuro; the next group of messengers from Hirata would in turn bring Kuro’s scent-marked gift to him.

Genichiro’s cock throbbed at the thought. To have the Divine Heir as his own was a victory like no other. Genichiro would be privy to all aspects of his mate and welcome to his divine blood. _Especially_ his blood.

Isshin didn’t know what a gift he’d bestowed upon Genichiro. He didn’t know of Genichiro’s need for the Dragon’s Heritage, which only Kuro could satisfy. It was sure to secure Ashina’s victory against Tokugawa and his damned Ministry.

If only the timing was better! Why did the Divine Heir have to present now with all this conflict around them? Genichiro was due to leave in an hour to return to his troops. Had there been more time, Kuro could’ve been brought to Ashina Castle and they’d be mated by the following day. But the Divine Heir was still undergoing his heat and couldn’t be moved. Nor was the Hirata Estate in the way of Genichiro’s travels. He sighed, a snarl vibrating in his throat.

His grandfather’s words came back to him. _You still need to complete the courtship. Wait a while. Send him gifts. He’ll be covered in your scent by the time you return._

The Divine Heir, marked by him and only him. Genichiro’s lips curled as the alpha in him rumbled with pleasure.

* * *

Wolf watched, unable to completely hide his concern, as Lord Kuro wobbled on his feet. The servants flitted around their lord as they got him ready for the day.

“I’m alright,” Lord Kuro said gently. “Just a little dizzy.”

Wolf didn’t relax.

“It will wear off, my lord,” Lady Nogami said, wiping Lord Kuro’s face with a damp cloth. “You did very well.”

“Are you sure it’s over?” Lord Kuro asked.

Lady Nogami nodded. “The next heat ought to come at the same time, next month,” she informed him. “There is no guarantee of the exact time. But you are healthy, my lord, so yours will be regular.”

Lord Kuro nodded, exhaling slowly. His servants had dressed him in his usual kimono, dyed with a dark shade of golden-brown and embroidered with the flower of Hirata’s emblem. His hair was tied up, and his eyes were clear. 

“My lord,” Wolf began, keeping his eye out for any sign of faintness.

“I am alright. See?” Lord Kuro extended his arms out somewhat, a smile on his face. With his wrists turned outward, Wolf caught a whiff of the sweet aroma of sakura flowers. Every part of his body tightened, especially at his crotch.

With the end of his heat, Lord Kuro now bore the unmistakable scent of an omega, alluring and desirable, brushing over Wolf like a soft flurry of petals. Owl had given him a new supply of herbs, along with the ones to dull his senses, but was it truly enough to help him manage self-restraint before his lord?

He had to. He must. Lord Kuro was his master, nothing else. He must remember that. He must – 

Lord Kuro stepped past him, ready to get on with the day, and his scent gusted over Wolf’s face. A strained groan built in his throat, but he swallowed it back. He _must_ control himself!

As he followed his lord, Wolf noticed the increase of retainers around them. _To guard him from the alphas._ Wolf noted how certain advisors glanced at their lord as they passed by, a hungry desire in their eyes, though they did their best to hide it. Nogami Gensai and his group of retainers planted themselves around Lord Kuro, unyielding. Wolf was glad for it, pleased even. _None_ of those alphas would have his lord, not if he could help it.

For what felt like the umpteenth time, Wolf berated himself for his wild thoughts. Who was he to decide whom his lord would eventually end up with? Wolf was an alpha, but he was also a servant. He couldn’t – he had no place to –

“We have something to discuss about your presentation, my lord,” Ujiteru, the advisor in court matters, declared. When Lord Kuro nodded, he continued, "We sent news to Lord Isshin. He shares our concern about your safety, and has taken appropriate measures."

"Which are?"

The hairs on the back of Wolf's neck stood on end.

“You are to become Ashina Genichiro’s mate. A marriage alliance between our clans, and to ensure your protection.”

Every fibre of Wolf’s being howled, whether in protest or plain shock, he didn’t know. He could only stand there, close enough to his lord to touch, but unable to initiate any sort of contact.

Lord Kuro was _his_ to protect, was he not? It was _Wolf’s_ duty! It was –

 _No,_ Wolf thought, barely containing a snarl behind his gritted teeth. That was _enough!_

The wall of beta retainers helped to block Lord Kuro’s scent from wafting, if only a little, but Wolf was part of that wall. Perhaps the tea was wearing off. Whatever the reason, he _must_ keep himself in check.

He refocused on the discussion at hand. Lord Kuro appeared startled by the news, but only momentarily. “Lord Genichiro,” he repeated, and there was something akin to resignation in his tone. “When will the ceremony take place?”

“There is no date as of yet,” Ujiteru replied. “But Lord Isshin has suggested holding it in two years.”

 _“Two years?"_ Lord Kuro repeated, mirroring Wolf’s own incredulousness. “I must ask for more time. Four years, at the very least.”

“My lord, four years may be too long. If Lord Genichiro falls in battle, it will be too late.”

“He may fall during the two years that Lord Isshin proposed,” Lord Kuro pointed out. “I need time to prepare. We must solidify our resources, our position against the Ministry and their allies. Two years is not enough to account for that.”

Ujiteru sighed. “May I suggest three years, then? A compromise?”

Lord Kuro was silent for a few heartbeats. Then he said, “Very well. See to it that Lord Isshin receives word.”

“Yes, my lord. And that leads us to the courtship. Lord Genichiro began it by sending you a gift. It is waiting with the messenger outside. We would advise you to respond in kind.”

Lord Kuro nodded. Once the meeting was finished, Wolf followed his lord to the audience chamber. A fire burned in his chest, spreading through his limbs. _Genichiro, Ashina Genichiro._ Wolf repeated the name in his mind, memorizing it, turning it over and over. He recognized it as the name belonging to the grandson of Ashina Isshin. A prominent lord, and a renowned general.

Wolf’s fingers twitched. The fire in him was doused, replaced by something cold and shivering, something that tightened in his chest. In such a match there would be no place for Wolf, no need for the loyal shinobi. No doubt they’d send him away, back to his father, to the Usui Clan. 

Wolf glanced at the back of his lord’s head. _Lord Kuro,_ he thought. _I am loyal to you. I am your tool. I am yours._ The words remained trapped in his chest, twisting painfully like a blade.

His lord walked on, set upon a path that he couldn’t leave. But that was just as well, wasn’t it? It was for his safety, and that was all Wolf wanted. Yes, that was all.

Wolf breathed deep, and the air grated against his throat.

The messenger was there when they entered the audience chamber. He bowed low. “My lord. I have Lord Genichiro’s gift here.”

Lord Kuro held out his hands and received an ornate box. Wolf eyed it with suspicion and sniffed imperceptibly.

All at once his hackles threatened to rise. The strong, musky scent that layered the box assaulted his nostrils, dominating, threatening to tear at him. _Alpha,_ it screamed.

Wolf wanted to howl aloud in reply, but nothing escaped past his clamped lips.

Senses sharpened to a blade’s point, he noticed how Lord Kuro inhaled in surprise, and then again at a slower pace. He opened the lid, and Genichiro’s scent turned thick, taking hold of the air around them as though he were there in person. Lord Kuro held up an object from within the box – a tantō. 

“It is beautiful,” Lord Kuro said. Addressing the messenger, he asked, “Will you return to him soon?”

“Yes, my lord. He won’t be at Ashina Castle, however. He’ll be heading out to join his samurai.”

Lord Kuro delicately turned the tantō over in his hands. “I see. I will look for something suitable.”

Wolf found his opportunity while his lord got ready for the evening. He ended up with two cups of tea, murky and swirling with specks of the herb. By the time he returned to Lord Kuro’s rooms, he felt considerably better. His lord’s scent had dulled a little to his senses, at least.

The servants were advising him on how to properly scent-mark the gift he’d chosen for Genichiro. Wolf swallowed, but said nothing. He was only a servant to his lord, nothing more.

The thought made his chest ache, but he didn’t know why.

“I’m sure I learned this when I was young,” Lord Kuro said as he rubbed a square of cloth against his wrist.

“Not to worry, my lord,” Lady Nogami said gently. “This is your first time. It is easy once you get the hang of it.”

Lord Kuro offered a tentative smile. Then he picked up the gift – Wolf couldn’t quite see what it was – and wrapped it in the cloth. “There. Will you deliver this to the messenger?”

Two of his servants nodded, took the package, and departed. As they passed by Wolf, he caught the scent that covered the package. Something stirred in his hakama, startling him. In a heartbeat of panic, he shifted into the shadows cast by the candlelight.

Lord Kuro looked up. “Wolf?”

Wolf dipped into a bow. “Yes, my lord.”

His lord dismissed the servants. Once they were alone, he turned to Wolf. “I was thinking that we could resume our lessons.”

Wolf’s heart stuttered. “My lord? But – wouldn’t you rather rest? You’ve only just finished your –” He stopped himself, feeling warm in his face and beneath his clothes. _Damn_ his lack of control!

“Not at all!” Lord Kuro replied. “I feel quite well. Unless … you’d rather not continue?" He did not sound disappointed, only concerned.

Wolf bowed his head, resigned. “I will do what you say, my lord.”

“I need to keep up my strength and balance. Especially now that I am promised to Lord Genichiro.”

Startled, Wolf looked up at his lord. The latter’s gaze was distant, turned to the window, to the sky beyond. Outside, the moon hung bright and round in the night. “He is an admirable man, or so I’ve heard,” Lord Kuro said. “I’ve only met him once, long ago. But I must practice my skills if I am to honour a man such as him.” 

“My lord, you honour us all.”

The words were out of Wolf’s mouth before he could think twice. Embarrassment welled in his stomach, but it was too late to take them back. Nor did Wolf particularly want to.

Lord Kuro looked at him in surprise, and in the moonlight a faint flush creeped over his pale cheeks. Wolf’s eyes roved over his lord’s flushed visage. Then he remembered himself and hastily lowered his head.

“It makes me glad that you think so,” Lord Kuro said after a moment, his voice soft.

Wolf steeled himself. “I am willing to continue your lessons, my lord.”

A delicate hand rested on his shoulder, sending a tingle down his spine. “Thank you, Wolf.”

* * *

The next few months were marked by Kuro’s cycles. After each one, he surfaced from the haze of need and desire to find a gift waiting for him, each one from Genichiro.

He’d been shocked to learn that Isshin had chosen a mate for him, but now he felt … resigned. His lord’s reasoning made sense, and arranged marriages were a common practice in Japan. And there was surely no one better than Ashina Genichiro.

Kuro now had a calligraphy set and a book on the art of war sitting next to the tantō in his room. The calligraphy must have been difficult to find at this time, though perhaps it had been lying around Ashina Castle. Regardless, Kuro accepted the gifts, breathing in Genichiro’s scent each time.

He couldn’t escape it. The heady aroma covered each gift and its packaging, and now it enveloped him from head to toe. Each time Kuro caught a whiff, a flare of warmth shot through him. Perhaps some aftereffect of his heat cycle? At times he wanted to curl up on his futon and breathe in Genichiro’s scent without rest, but he restrained himself and continued on with his duties. 

Finding gifts for Genichiro was a difficult duty in and of itself. What did Genichiro like? He was a general, fighting in the war. He would accept weapons, most likely; Kuro’s first gift to him was a pair of shurikens, but he couldn’t take all of the weapons in Hirata’s armoury. So he settled for other things: a slice of sweet cake that would last for days, a small vessel of good wine, even one of his poetry books that he’d had since youth.

Something off-putting tugged at him whenever he sent the gifts off, marked with his scent. There was never any say in who one married, nor did Kuro know what he’d say if he could speak with Isshin. Having an opinion on the matter would only cause trouble, and Kuro was doing his best to avoid that.

He only wished …

Kuro sighed. The day was yet another dreary one, and he wouldn’t mind a sweet rice ball with his noon meal.

Rice balls. He hadn’t made them in so long. Memories rose to the forefront of his mind – scurrying through the estate’s corridors to the kitchens, cooking rice and smearing red bean paste …

The last time he’d snuck out for the kitchens, Wolf caught him. A smile tugged at Kuro’s lips, and he glanced at his shinobi. Wolf’s stoic face was the same as ever, and his clothes were all worn from age and use. The sight was as familiar to Kuro as the Hirata Estate. 

And then there was his scent. Kuro hadn’t noticed it before, but after his presentation, his senses were more honed. Wolf didn’t smell as bland as the other retainers’. His was a little earthy, a little musky. It was rather … pleasant.

Wolf glanced down at him. “My lord?”

Kuro blinked. Heat flushed his face; had he been thinking about Wolf’s _smell?_ “Yes?”

“Is there something you need?” Wolf’s gaze flickered to the floor before returning to Kuro’s face.

Frowning, Kuro looked down, and surprise bubbled in the pit of his stomach.

They were within nearly two feet of each other! When did he move closer to Wolf? He hurriedly took a step back. “I’m sorry, Wolf. I don’t know what came over me.”

There was a slight crease between his shinobi’s brows. Well, Kuro amended, there was always a crease between his brows. It just happened to be slightly _deeper_ than usual _._

Wolf bowed his head. “It’s alright, my lord. I do not mind.”

Kuro peered closer at Wolf. His shinobi remained ever unreadable, yet for a moment Kuro thought there was more to what Wolf said. Was there?

No, it was just wishful thinking. His shinobi was usually straightforward in his words. Kuro shook himself mentally, though the odd wedge in his heart refused to budge.

It was his lessons in stealth that he looked forward to the most: crouching low in the grasses with Wolf, creeping along rooftops on silent feet, leaping through the air without any hindrance. During those moments, Kuro felt a thrill through his veins. A sense of freedom, if only temporary. There was no one to see them in the darkness of night.

He snuck secret glances at Wolf when his shinobi’s face was turned, when his back was turned, when the moonlight illuminated out his form with shimmering beams.

In the shadows Kuro followed Wolf, and when he couldn’t see him well enough, he followed the faint trail of his shinobi’s scent. 

Perhaps there was nothing to note about Wolf’s words. These moments were more than enough for Kuro, enough to quell the disquiet within him.

“My lord,” Wolf murmured, close at his side. A shiver passed down Kuro’s spine, but not an ill one. “I will give you your test.”

Kuro nodded. So far, over the course of having Wolf as his teacher, he’d only failed one test. A blow to his confidence, yes, but fuel to the fire of his determination. He refused to make the same mistake twice, to see disappointment in his shinobi’s gaze again.

Yes, he’d seen disappointment there before. It had been a fleeting thing before Wolf schooled his expression. No doubt Wolf hadn’t meant for him to see it, or to even reveal it in the first place.

But Kuro took it as a lesson, and improved. And his shinobi was a fine teacher. He wouldn’t let Kuro fail again.

He passed the test, unseen save for Wolf who appeared at his side shortly after. His eyes gleaming yellow and bright as he nodded with approval, and Kuro swelled with pride.

They were crouched close together. Wolf’s faint scent washed over Kuro, enveloped him, and Kuro breathed it in.

Something tickled his nose, and he frowned. What was _that?_ A note of something in the aroma that hovered over Wolf. There was something familiar about it, like a flavour Kuro couldn’t place. He took another breath, leaning closer despite himself –

A soft breeze gusted over them, ruffling their clothes and hair. Kuro shivered.

“Come, my lord,” Wolf said, no doubt believing that Kuro was chilled. “That will be all for tonight. Let us go inside before you catch a cold.”

They returned to Kuro’s rooms; Wolf took his place on the roof while Kuro slipped into his futon. He lay there, restless, trying to place what he’d found in Wolf scent. He surely knew it. He just had to remember …

Genichiro did not appear at the Hirata Estate, not even as the year came to an end and the next one arrived.

“Tokugawa is making his move, pushing further into our lands,” General Nobuharu reported. “Lord Genichiro sends his regrets that he cannot see you. He trusts that you will consider his duties.”

“Of course.” A sliver of disappointment trickled through Kuro, but it was soon overtaken by shame. Genichiro was risking his life to protect them all. What right did Kuro have to judge him?

His latest gift for Ashina’s general weighed heavily in his hands. It was a feathered arrow, delicately crafted and adorned with spots of colour. The wooden shaft bore small, detailed carvings of lotus and sakura flowers. Despite its ornamentation, it was also meant to be useful.

Genichiro was skilled with a bow, after all; perhaps he’d use this arrow in battle.

Kuro had more weapons now than he ever thought he’d have. Tantō, shurikens, a slim katana, even a bow crafted to fit his size. He was running out of shelf space to display all these weapons.

The calligraphy set, on the other hand, was well-used by now. The ink stone was halfway through. Kuro took to writing little notes for Genichiro – well-wishes, small verses of poetry, prayers for his safety and health. The feel of the brush was reassuring in Kuro’s hand, though the scent that covered it distracted him from his writing at times.

Alongside that, he had a few new books from Genichiro, including one on martial arts and – more shockingly – the Ashina Esoteric Text, a compendium of the Ashina Sword Style. Kuro could hardly believe it when he unwrapped the book of its scent-coated silk. The skills taught in this book were of Isshin’s own making and hardly shown to anybody outside his inner circle of trustees. For Kuro to receive a copy meant that they were bringing him into the Ashina Clan for certain.

 _There is no going back from this,_ he thought, watching a messenger depart with his gift for Genichiro. 

Inside the Hirata Estate, all continued as it usually did. Servants performed their duties, retainers remained stoic and alert, and there was a general feel in the air of business. Kuro went about his day, taking part in meetings, progressing through his studies, fulfilling his role as lord of Hirata. 

The desk in his study was positioned near the window, allowing him a pleasant view of the blue sky and rustling trees beyond. A faint smell of cooking soup wafted into the room.

He would not be here forever.

The thought sat like a lump of lead in his stomach. Once he was mated, he’d move to Ashina Castle, and with the gods’ blessings they would have many heirs. One of them could rule from the Hirata Estate. As for the others, they’d likely branch off and make new clans of their own.

A heaviness weighed upon Kuro in that moment, tightening in his chest, his throat. _Uncle,_ he prayed, _lend me your strength. Help me be brave._

His hand shook as he reached for a calligraphy brush. The date on this report was incorrect –

Something soft brushed against his bare wrist. Kuro looked down in surprise; a flower sat upon his desk, small and white. Its delicate petals were still young, untouched by wilt. Carefully, Kuro picked up the flower, cradling it in his palm.

He took a breath. Mingled with the flower’s natural sweet scent was a wisp of earthiness. Musky … and recent.

He turned his head to see Wolf standing in the corner of the room. His gaze was on the floor, and his cheeks tinged red.

“Wolf,” Kuro said, keeping his voice light, “I don’t suppose you saw this flower come in?”

Wolf glanced up at him. The flush in his face deepened, and Kuro’s heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“No, my lord,” he replied. “It must have come through the window.”

“It had a long journey then,” Kuro said with a small chuckle, “from the other side of this building.”

“It is one of the last flowers.” Wolf barely spoke above a murmur. “The other trees have already lost theirs, and – it is the emblem of Hirata.”

“A gift from the tree, then?”

“An offering, my lord.”

Warmth spread through Kuro’s chest, from fingertips to toes. “I am glad to find it here.”

Wolf’s eyes flickered to Kuro. This time it was Kuro’s turn to blush; he laid the flower down and set to correcting the report with a trembling hand. Sometimes his shinobi still surprised him even after eight years of being together.

That evening, Kuro spent some time in the kitchens, letting his hands move by memory. The nutty aroma of cooked rice filled the air, mingling with the mouth-watering red bean paste. He had not done this in … how long? Far too long for his liking. With his days taken up by work, he did not have as much leisure time as in his youth.

It was after their stealth lesson that night that Kuro presented the rice ball to Wolf. “This is for you.”

“You are too generous, my lord,” Wolf replied. “But I – I couldn’t.”

“Oh?” Amusement bubbled in Kuro’s stomach. “I thought you didn’t dislike sweets.”

“I have done nothing to deserve such a gift.”

“You ate it before,” Kuro pointed out.

When Wolf maintained his conflicted silence, Kuro sighed, but with a smile. “Let’s not call it a gift then, but an offering. A small token of my gratitude for your help.” His smile broadened. “Go on, try it!”

Wolf hesitated for a moment before taking the rice ball. He bit into it, chewed and swallowed, and licked a stray rice grain from his lips. Kuro’s mouth went dry.

“It’s delicious, my lord,” Wolf said once he’d finished.

Kuro quickly schooled his expression. “Really? That’s good.”

Why was his heart beating so fast?

His next gift from Genichiro was a jinkai, a conch shell horn. Kuro had heard about them; the Hirata Estate’s armoury certainly had one or two. But this one was from Ashina Castle, fitted with a polished bronze mouthpiece. The shell itself was ivory, with some splotches of tan and speckled with brown.

General Nobuharu eagerly went into detail about the complex system of calls that could be made with a jinkai. “The system developed during Tokugawa’s campaign,” he explained. “We can use it to signal troop formations, inspire our men, and confuse the enemy.”

Had this one been used in battle? Kuro didn’t think so; it looked too polished. He held it up as though to blow it, but made no move to.

“Would you like to try it, my lord?” Nobuharu asked.

Kuro lowered the jinkai. “I’ve never tried to blow a horn,” he admitted.

“I can show you how, my lord.”

One of Hirata’s jinkai was brought forth, since nobody would dare use an alpha’s gift meant for his future mate. The jinkai that Nobuharu received had a wooden mouthpiece, and he raised it to his lips and blew.

A strong call burst forth as the lowing of cattle, but with the clarity of a gong ringing through the stillness just before dawn. Nobuharu held the call for a few heartbeats longer before allowing it to fade into a whisper, silencing completely.

“Just like that,” he said.

Even with Nobuharu’s instruction, Kuro went through several attempts before managing to get a sound out of his jinkai. His mouth and jaw muscles ached by the end of it, but the horn’s call was beautiful to hear, just like Hirata’s jinkai.

“I don’t suppose shinobi use jinkai?” Kuro asked later in his room. A second shelf had been installed to provide more space for Genichiro’s gifts. 

“No, my lord,” Wolf replied. “We prefer smaller instruments. Ones that are light and easy to carry.”

“I see.” Kuro set his jinkai on the middle shelf. Sunlight streaming in from the window struck the conch shell, casting it in a mother-of-pearl sheen.

When he turned around, it was to find Wolf staring at the jinkai, his face set as stone. Kuro moved over to stand next to him, admiring the shell. What should he give to Genichiro that could match this?

He breathed deep to sigh, yet paused. What was that odd tang in the air? He sniffed, catching Wolf’s faint scent, and with it that odd tang of … What was that?

It touched something in Kuro, stirring a primal instinct. It must be an omega’s instinct, for how else would he know that Wolf was giving off _displeasure?_

Kuro glanced sideways at his shinobi, arching an eyebrow. “What is it, Wolf?”

Wolf blinked and focused on Kuro. “My lord?”

“What do you think of the shell?”

Wolf’s expression remained blank. “It is appropriate considering the times, my lord.”

His words certainly didn’t match what Kuro sensed. Kuro looked back to the jinkai, deep in thought. Was it possible that his shinobi was jealous? It was just a slight tang in his scent, but it made Kuro wonder.

His suspicion was further deepened the following morning, starting with the sound of soft scraping on the roof. The dawn’s first rays were shining into his room and creeping over the blankets.

“Wolf?” he asked, voice still raw from sleep.

The scraping stopped. Seconds later, Wolf dropped down onto the window sill and landed soundly on the floor, kneeling. “Yes, my lord?”

Kuro squinted in the sunlight. He couldn’t see Wolf’s face clearly, silhouetted against the light as his shinobi was. “I thought I heard something up there.”

Wolf immediately leaned down and pressed his forehead to the floor. “Forgive me, my lord. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“It’s alright, Wolf.” Kuro rubbed his eyes and peered closer at his shinobi. “What were you doing?”

Wolf straightened up a little and held up a small object. A thin, short object that looked very much like …

“A reed whistle,” Wolf said. “It’s one of the instruments that shinobi use for signals.”

The last tendrils of sleep fell from Kuro as he leaned forward to get a closer look. Wolf handed it to him; the whistle was light in Kuro’s hands, and meticulously carved.

“So you blow through this hole here?” Kuro asked. “What does it sound like?”

He got the impression that his shinobi was bolstered by his interest. “I would show you,” Wolf said, “but it is loud despite its size.”

“Oh the roof, then?” Kuro suggested.

Wolf nodded and slipped through the window. Shortly after, Kuro heard something like a bird’s chirping, breaking through the early morning. He stood from the futon and went over to the window, poking his head out and looking up.

His shinobi was perched on the edge of the roof, lowering the reed whistle from his lips. Kuro gazed at Wolf for a moment, tracing the angular shape of his face, the stillness of his body, even slight ruffling of his topknot in the morning air.

“That was lovely, Wolf,” he said after a pause of silence.

Wolf glanced down and met his gaze, and Kuro’s neck grew warm.

“You may have it, my lord,” his shinobi said. “If you desire it.”

The warmth in Kuro’s neck spread to his face. His imagination was getting ahead of him! “Don’t you need it, Wolf? What if you need to signal others?”

“I can always make another.” Wolf slipped back through the window, standing only after he had bowed to Kuro. “Say the word, and it is yours.”

Kuro licked his dry lips and took the reed whistle in his palm. “Thank you, Wolf,” he murmured.

The whistle was covered in that faint, musky scent. Kuro breathed it in, and a wave of content washed over him. He was so wrapped up in inhaling Wolf’s scent that he nearly missed the quiet rumble, almost like a purr.

He glanced up at Wolf, but his shinobi’s face was unreadable, and he could no longer hear the rumbling sound.

That night, Kuro offered him another rice ball, and Wolf accepted it.

It happened just before Kuro’s upcoming heat.

The little bell charm lay in Wolf’s outstretched palm, tied with red string. “Lady Nogami asked me to give this to you,” he explained. “She held onto it for you since you were young, but never found the right time to return it. She felt I should give it to you in her stead.”

“Lady Nogami?” Kuro said in surprise. She was the mother of the Nogami retainers, and also the head of his servants. She could have given the bell charm to him whenever they were together. Why pass it onto Wolf?

Despite his confusion, Kuro didn’t particularly mind. In fact, receiving it from Wolf sent a pleasant fluttering sensation through his chest. “I will search her out after. Thank you, Wolf.”

Kuro took the bell charm. For a heartbeat, his fingers brushed against Wolf’s, and a tingling current shot through Kuro’s body, quick and sharp as lightning. He looked up, startled, and found his shinobi’s gaze intense upon him. Kuro ought to have turned away as though nothing happened, perhaps tuck the bell charm into his kimono and continue on with his schedule. But his feet were rooted, unmoving. He didn’t think he could tear his eyes away from Wolf even if he wanted to.

 _It’s just my heat cycle,_ Kuro thought. _It’s getting closer, muddling my head._

But was it just that? No, there was surely something else. He was very fond of his shinobi, that much was for certain. Very fond. 

Kuro’s body was one big pulse. Heat pooled in his core as he drew in a shaky breath, taking in Wolf’s scent, and – 

_Oh gods._

Wolf snapped to awareness, took a step back, and dipped into his kneel. “My apologies, my lord,” he murmured, head bowed. “I forgot my place.”

“No,” Kuro said faintly, still trying to process what just happened. “It’s nothing, Wolf.”

That was a lie. It wasn’t nothing. It was – by Buddha, was he even right? But he had caught it around Wolf, hadn’t he? Caught the scent of –

_An alpha._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I forgot to mention before is that I've been trying to add in some real-world things to ground the story's setting a bit more. Research isn't always my strong suit, but it's been quite fun XDD I got the idea to use Tokugawa Ieyasu from VaatiVidya and his Sekiro lore videos, for example. I highly recommend watching them if you haven't already! :D
> 
> Also, I hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! Your comments and kudos are much appreciated <3


	6. The General of Ashina

Shortly after Lord Kuro turned seventeen, a messenger of the Ashina Clan arrived.

“My lord, I bring news from Lord Genichiro. He is on his way here.”

Wolf’s muscles tensed. Genichiro was coming _now?_ They still had one more year before the ceremony was due! His fingers twitched toward Kusabimaru’s hilt, but he kept as still as he could despite the alpha in him threatening to burst.

“How long until he arrives?” Lord Kuro asked, eyes wide with surprise.

“At least three days, my lord. He’s returning to Ashina Castle, but he decided to visit you on his way there.”

“I see. Thank you.”

When Lord Kuro turned around, Wolf saw a new gleam of determination in his eyes. “It appears we have some cleaning up to do,” his lord announced.

Soon after, the whole of the Hirata Estate was bustling with servants and maids as they prepared for Genichiro’s arrival. The floors were scrubbed, displays of armour were polished, and fresh herbs were crushed to waft their aromas through the halls, likely to clear away any alpha’s scent that lingered. Wolf followed close behind as Lord Kuro oversaw the preparations; at one point they stood in the kitchens, preparing a possible list of meals in case Genichiro decided to stay for a few days. Then, in what felt like a second later, they were in Hirata’s audience chamber as Lord Kuro inspected the cleaning.

“Very good,” he said to the servants. “You’re all doing well.”

Wolf could smell the anxiety in their scents, mixing with the herbal fragrance from a nearby basket. The Hirata Estate radiated with nervous energy. Throughout it all, Lord Kuro maintained a calm composure even when his own scent spiked with worry. 

Wolf wanted to say something comforting, but he couldn’t, not when they were surrounded by servants and advisors and retainers. There were too many people, too many sounds and voices. A trapped snarl built in his throat.

On the eve before Genichiro’s arrival, Lord Kuro’s servants prepared his wardrobe for the following day. Lord Kuro himself searched his shelves of gifts for something suitable to carry.

“He didn’t give me any jewellery. That leaves the weapons …”

Wolf watched unblinkingly as his lord took the slim katana from its display supports, positioning it at his hip. Lord Kuro turned to his servants. “What do you think of this?”

“An excellent choice, my lord,” Lady Nogami said, adjusting the blankets on the futon.

“What about you, Wolf?” Lord Kuro asked.

There were many things Wolf could say. Genichiro’s scent filled his nose, choking him. He wanted to take his lord away from the gifts, away from all the commotion of the estates, and enfold him gently in his arms –

“Wolf?”

“It is – appropriate, my lord,” Wolf said, grinding his teeth.

Lord Kuro tilted his head at him, but nodded and replaced the katana on the shelf.

After he dismissed the servants, Lord Kuro went to stand by the window, looking out into the night. “Wolf,” he said quietly, “I find myself … uneasy about tomorrow.”

Wolf stepped closer, careful, as though he might frighten his lord away with a sudden move. He hoped that his presence might be enough comfort of a sort.

“This is the first time in so long that I’m seeing him,” Lord Kuro continued, turning from the window. “I worry that things will go wrong.”

“Do you have a sense that they might?” Wolf asked.

“I’m not sure.” Lord Kuro’s gaze flickered around the room before landing on Wolf. His lord inhaled sharply and looked away.

Wolf frowned. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen his lord like this. He thought back to that night, not too long ago but not too recent either, when he gave Lord Kuro his bell charm. A small part within Wolf still shivered at the memory, while the bigger part of him knew that something had happened then. He’d tried to breathe in as little as possible, but his lord’s scent was heavy, alluring.

And when their fingers touched … 

Wolf’s pleasure at the contact had been overridden by the sudden spike of scent between them, a shift in the air around his lord. 

If Lord Kuro noticed the same, he hadn’t yet said anything. And that was where Wolf hesitated. His lord was always forthright, especially when it concerned his clan’s wellbeing. Wolf might cause more harm than good if he brought his suspicions up now – and especially now that Genichiro was coming here.

But what had happened then? Did Lord Kuro catch something in Wolf’s scent that he shouldn’t have, not when Wolf was taking all the necessary herbs? Then again, omegas were more perceptive to alphas than anything else. What if …

No, that couldn’t be so. Lord Kuro would know that having an alpha as his retainer was against the law. He would have said something of it long before now. Why would he keep silent?

A possibility hovered in Wolf’s mind, but he refused to consider it even as it made his heartbeat quicken. He was only a servant to his lord, nothing more.

The next day, Lord Kuro and his retinue of advisors, courtiers, and servants gathered in the estates’ entrance courtyard. Any of those who were alphas were positioned far from Lord Kuro. In contrast, Wolf stood just behind his lord, waiting for the inevitable. Genichiro’s scent was getting stronger from beyond the gates, sending cold shivers over Wolf’s skin.

Horse hooves clipped over the path, and a herald rose through the gates, bearing Ashina’s emblem. Then several others came through, dressed in armour and wearing katanas at their hips. _Samurai._ One of them in particular caught Wolf’s eye – a large man holding a great spear in one hand, and mounted upon a white, armoured horse.

One of the servants nearby sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s Oniwa Gyoubu Masataka,” she whispered to her companion. “Lord Genichiro’s retainer.”

“He’s the one they call the Demon?” the other replied, barely above a breath.

“They say he has the strength of an alpha!”

Wolf’s eyes narrowed, watching as Gyoubu brought his horse around, facing the gates. The other samurai – likely Genichiro’s other retainers – took up positions on either side.

A strange energy built in the air, crackling, as though heralding a storm.

And then _he_ appeared on a dark mount.

Every instinct worked at Wolf’s muscles. He wanted to curl his lip back and snarl, raise his hackles, plant himself between his lord and this new alpha. 

Genichiro was fully armoured as his retainers were. His kabuto glared in the sunlight, framing a sharp-edged face, and Wolf spotted a few loose strands of dark hair. His manto fluttered in the wind as he dismounted, and there upon his back was a large bow.

As Genichiro strode over to where Lord Kuro stood, the entire gathering of Hirata bowed, their lord included. Wolf did the same, keeping as still as he could as Genichiro came to a halt not three feet away.

His scent deepened, mixing with Lord Kuro’s sakura aroma – which had already been tinged with Genichiro’s stench from all those gifts. Wolf’s chest tightened as the tense silence went on; Genichiro wasn’t _marking_ his lord, but this was close enough.

His scent _reeked_ of approval, and of pleasure. Wolf barely restrained from wrinkling his nose in disgust, though at the same time, the alpha in him couldn’t help but understand, if only grudgingly. Lord Kuro was dressed in his usual dark golden-brown kimono, but this time with a deep blue haori patterned with Hirata’s emblem. His dark hair was tied up into a topknot, exposing his neck completely.

Wolf was torn between admiring his lord’s noble demeanor and wishing to cover him from Genichiro’s gaze.

“Lord Genichiro,” Lord Kuro said, straightening a little. “I am glad to see that you are well.”

His retinue straightened with him, and Wolf caught a look at Ashina’s general. Up close he was tall, taller than Wolf and even the late Lord Morimasa. Lord Kuro barely reached his sharp chin.

“Divine Heir,” Genichiro said, his voice low and smooth. The alpha in Wolf rankled to hear it. “It has been long.”

His gaze fixed on Lord Kuro’s face, eyeing him as one might look at a promising blade, or a luxurious meal. There was a sharpness in his eyes, a deep scrutiny that immediately put Wolf on guard.

“Indeed it has,” Lord Kuro agreed. “I am sure you and your companions are weary from your travels. We have refreshments inside; my men will see to your horses.”

Genichiro inclined his head. “You have my thanks, Divine Heir.”

With that, they went inside the main building. Genichiro’s retainers were tended to by Hirata’s servants, and though they were offered refreshment, they refused to take it before their lord had. Wolf took in their scents as they went; all were betas for certain, even Gyoubu.

Lord Kuro soon showed Genichiro to his guest rooms. “There will be a banquet this evening in your honour,” he said.

“How generous of you,” Genichiro replied, the shadow of a smile on his pale face. “Will there be time before then to speak with you further?”

Lord Kuro blinked, as though not expecting such a request. “Of course. My servants will attend to anything you need during your stay; they will know where to find me.”

Genichiro nodded once. Then his eyes fell on Wolf.

Wolf could hardly breathe from keeping every instinct in check. Genichiro appeared unaware of Wolf’s inner turmoil as he looked him up and down. “Your shinobi, I presume?”

Lord Kuro nodded, the picture of calm save for the tightening of his clasped hands. “This is Wolf from the Usui Clan.”

Wolf bowed stiffly.

“Hmm.” Genichiro turned to Lord Kuro, unimpressed. “Usui’s shinobi are renowned. But even for those in the service of lords, one would expect them to take the proper appearance.”

Heat flushed Wolf’s face at the barbed comment. He’d never given a thought to his attire before. It was what he wore. It didn’t get in the way when he fought. But now, caught in the eyes of two lords, both dressed in rich fabrics, a sliver of shame coiled in his stomach. How much was he ruining his lord’s image with his own?

"Perhaps," Lord Kuro replied, not without a little coolness.

Once Genichiro disappeared inside his guest room, Lord Kuro set off down the corridor at a brisk pace. Wolf followed, glad to be away from the general.

They retreated to his lord's room; Wolf took one look at Genichiro’s gifts, all carefully arranged on the shelves, and recoiled.

“I am sorry about that, Wolf,” Lord Kuro said earnestly. “It was very rude of him. I didn’t think he would … Well, I hardly know him at all.”

Wolf struggled to tear his focus away from the gifts. Everything around him was muted, blurred.

“Wolf?”

He felt a gentle hand on his arm. The fragrance of sakura brushed past his nostrils, sharpening his senses. A face appeared in his line of sight, blocking everything else out. Lord Kuro.

There wasn’t more than two feet of space between them. Wolf registered this and quickly stepped back, but Lord Kuro followed.

“If you wish it, my lord,” Wolf said, trying not to stutter over his own tongue, “I will –”

“No,” Lord Kuro said firmly. “You don’t have to.”

“I should not dishonour you with …” Wolf glanced down at himself. Genichiro’s words rang in his ears.

“You’re not! Shinobi aren’t expected to hold to the same standards as our usual retainers. You’ve performed your duty beyond expectation.” Lord Kuro’s fingers brushed against the fabric of Wolf’s scarf. “If this suits you, then it suits me too.”

Wolf bowed his head. He grew warm again, but not from anger or shame this time. If his lord was content, then he was satisfied too. 

The moment didn’t last long.

A servant soon came to the door. “Lord Genichiro is ready to see you, my lord.”

Lord Kuro put on a smile, though Wolf noted how his shoulders stiffened. “Well, my shinobi,” his lord said. “Let’s go see what else he has to say.”

* * *

Genichiro watched as the Divine Heir stood underneath a barren tree, loose strands of hair brushing against his forehead. So far Genichiro was more than pleased with him. Kuro was indeed beautiful as his messengers had reported: his porcelain face was well-shaped and delicate, but lined with strength and maturity. His physique was also appealing, muscled yet lean, appropriately built for one trained in sword fighting. He was certainly a lovely omega.

“Divine Heir,” Genichiro said, and Kuro looked over to him. “Walk with me.”

Kuro fell in step beside him, and they strolled through one of Hirata’s quiet gardens. There was nobody else around, save for Genichiro and Kuro’s retainers, who kept a wide radius around them.

And there was the Divine Heir’s shinobi as well. _Wolf._ He was supposedly here as Kuro assured, but Genichiro hadn’t caught a glimpse of him yet.

It was both good and unsettling. Shinobi were meant to be shadows, invisible and ignored. Genichiro was familiar with the Nightjar Ninja back at Ashina Castle; they patrolled the rooftops, keeping watch for even the most invisible of intruders. They were the best in the land, aside from the Usui Clan’s shinobi.

And that’s where it was unsettling. Genichiro would’ve preferred to send a Nightjar or two to protect the Divine Heir. The Nightjar he could at least trust, given that they were under his command. This one, though – this shabby, mercenary shinobi – Genichiro didn’t know him. He only knew he was Kuro’s shinobi given that he was the _only_ shinobi in the retinue that morning. And a _short_ one, at that.

Genichiro had heard reports from his messengers beforehand. Isshin hadn’t thought it much of a concern, and saw no need to lessen the amount of Nightjar at Ashina Castle. Genichiro had put it from his mind while he resumed his duties, but now that he was here, with the Divine Heir’s scent all around him … 

Perhaps he was being petty in his grievances. The shinobi was only a beta, hardly a threat to his future mate. And Kuro was well-protected to have one from the Usui Clan. But the more primal part of Genichiro didn’t like it.

Didn’t like the thought of somebody other than himself being with his Divine Heir, day and night, watching him, matching his every step. It was enough for a growl to build in his throat.

“I trust Lord Isshin is well?” Kuro asked.

Genichiro surfaced from his thoughts, as smoothly as an arrow loosening from his mentor’s bow. “Yes. His illness still plagues him, but he is currently stable.”

“I hope his health gets better soon.”

A pause of silence fell over them.

“Has my gift served you well?” Genichiro eventually asked.

Kuro laid his hand over the hilt of his katana, hanging at his side. “I’ve used it in training,” he replied. “It is exceptional.”

“I am glad to hear it. In fact, I hope I will soon have the honour of seeing you use it.”

Kuro blinked. “You – wish to see my training sessions?”

The Divine Heir was even more lovely when flustered. “Perhaps tomorrow, if you are agreeable,” Genichiro offered. “I must depart for Ashina Castle in a few days.”

Kuro gathered his composure. “Of course. I will speak to my trainer.”

They spent the remainder of the afternoon together, with Kuro giving a tour of the estates. Not much had changed since Genichiro last saw the place, though its defences had increased considerably.

Could they stand against another attack by Tokugawa and his Ministry? Genichiro couldn’t be certain. It depended on the Ministry’s weapons, how many forces they brought, what they’d improved upon since the last attack. The Hirata Estate, despite being Ashina’s greatest vassal, was a small clan in comparison to Tokugawa’s allies. 

If they did attack and Hirata fell, Genichiro needed to ensure the Divine Heir’s retreat to Ashina Castle. He couldn’t risk losing him, not when everything he needed now hovered in his palm, ready to be taken.

The banquet that evening was very enjoyable.

Kuro sat on Genichiro’s right, pouring him tea and offering food. His men sat nearby, with Gyoubu sitting nearest to him. The dishes were appropriately simple while also substantial, which Genichiro approved of. He despised the luxury and ceremony that outsiders usually put into such occasions, flaunting bright colours and excessive meals. The Divine Heir was undoubtedly aware of this; he’d arranged for bowls of rice, vegetable soups, dried abalone and jellyfish, and pickled ume, all moderately seasoned.

Musicians serenaded them throughout the banquet, plucking the strings of a koto and shamisen, playing the sweet notes of a bamboo flute, vocalizing with soft voices. Their music mixed with the laughter, chatter, and clinking cutlery around them.

“Would you like some dessert, my lord?” Kuro asked, extending an elegant hand to a modest amount of choices before them: sweet rice balls, dried fruits, azuki beans covered in sugar, and bite-sized steam cakes.

Genichiro arched an eyebrow. “Which would you recommend?”

“They are all good, my lord.”

“Which one do you prefer?”

“Me?” Kuro’s face tinged pink, and Genichiro purred at the sight. His future mate was likely the only one to hear it in the hall’s mild commotion.

“I do have a taste for the sweet rice balls,” Kuro admitted.

“Then I shall try those first.” Genichiro took one and bit into it. Sweet red bean paste burst over his tongue, and he chewed lazily. He hadn’t eaten one of these for a long time.

“You sent me sweets while I was gone,” he said after a moment.

The flush in Kuro’s face deepened further. “Yes. I made them myself. I thought you might like them.”

“They were delicious. I didn’t know you could make sweets.”

“I’ve done so since I was little.”

How curious. Genichiro’s future mate, an amateur baker? The notion settled rather comfortably in his mind.

“More tea?” Kuro offered. “The green tea goes well with rice balls.”

Genichiro held out his cup. He suspected that Kuro moved more out of politeness than any sort of affection, but that would soon be remedied.

Once the cup was filled, he held it out to Kuro. The Divine Heir’s brow furrowed in confusion. “My lord?”

“You’ve hardly touched your own, much less eaten anything,” Genichiro said in a low voice. “I won’t have that for my omega.”

Kuro’s eyes flickered back to the banquet table. “Oh – my apologies, my lord. I’ll –”

Genichiro leaned closer, holding the cup near Kuro’s hand. “Drink first, Divine Heir.”

Kuro breathed in, visibly steeling himself, and took Genichiro’s cup. Genichiro watched as he drank; Kuro’s pink lips surfaced after a moment, moistened by the tea. 

Genichiro’s hakama felt tight and overly warm, especially at his crotch. What would it be like to press his lips to the Divine Heir’s? Were they soft as sakura petals? Did he taste as sweet as he smelled? 

Kuro set the cup down and began to eat, taking small bites from his serving. Genichiro’s eyes fixed on his neck, and he imagined burying his face in that curve, breathing in his scent, teeth piercing flesh … 

Yes, a very enjoyable evening.

After the banquet, Kuro accompanied Genichiro to the latter’s rooms. Their retainers followed them, though at a respectful distance. “I wish you a good night, my lord,” the Divine Heir said.

For a moment, Genichiro considered inviting Kuro into his chambers. Nobody would think twice about an alpha spending the night with his omega. They could speak further with each other, reveal more of themselves in the veiling shadows of the night, unseen by any others. They could indulge in a deeper intimacy; Genichiro had no qualms in letting the Divine Heir explore him first, if he wished it. He’d certainly take his time in learning the Divine Heir’s every aspect.

But it was too soon to do so. Genichiro kept his disappointment from showing on his face. “And to you, Divine Heir.”

In the privacy of his room, cloaked in darkness, Genichiro took himself in hand and stroked hard. Kuro’s scent lingered over him, filling his senses, fueling his need until it was a blazing fire.

His cock engorged until it was all he could do to fully wrap his fingers around it; his knot swelled, wet and raw, tensed like a bowstring drawn too tight. He groaned low and guttural, spilling his seed onto the futon, panting heavily.

In time. In time he’d have the Divine Heir in his hold. Perhaps sooner, even. 

Genichiro cleaned himself, then lay down to sleep. When he returned to Ashina castle, he’d speak to Isshin about the date for the ceremony.

The Divine Heir moved as swift and strong as rushing water. Genichiro watched, desire hot in his veins, as Kuro dueled with his trainer in the dojo. The katana he’d gifted him arced through the air, and the hall was filled with the metallic ringing of blades.

His sakura smell, strengthened from sweat, soaked through the air in the dojo. Between that and the Divine Heir’s exceptional display, Genichiro was entranced.

Quick as lightning, Kuro performed the mikiri counter on his trainer’s blade and held his own to the latter’s neck.

“Very good form,” Gyoubu mused at Genichiro’s side. “My lord, perhaps we should further his training at Ashina Castle. Young strength like his shouldn’t go to waste.”

Yes, it shouldn’t. Genichiro watched as Kuro went to the opposite side of the dojo, sheathing his katana and looking for a towel.

And then it appeared, hanging from the shinobi’s hand. Where did _he_ come from?

Kuro wiped his face with the towel and thanked the shinobi. Genichiro watched them, noting how the latter glanced around the dojo as though searching for a threat. How dutiful of him. Fortunately, there was nothing to be concerned about here: there was only an alpha and his omega, and many betas.

The shinobi’s eyes rested on Genichiro for a heartbeat longer before turning away. Genichiro half-smiled, and without humour. _Not to fear, shinobi,_ he thought. _He won’t be your charge for much longer._

* * *

“Ah, my grandson! Sit down, sit!”

Said grandson thankfully wasn’t dripping rain all over the tatami mats. The storm outside continued to rage, having started halfway through Genichiro’s return journey. He’d cleaned up and changed into dry clothes before coming to Isshin’s room.

Genichiro sat down and bowed his head. “Grandfather. How are you?”

“Fine, fine,” Isshin said impatiently.

“Is that what Emma said?”

Isshin waved his hand dismissively. “She says I need rest, so here I am, resting. Come now, Genichiro! How was your stay at Hirata?”

Something gleamed in Genichiro’s eyes at the mention of the Hirata Estate. Isshin watched his grandson closely. Satisfaction, perhaps, or delight?

“It was good,” Genichiro replied. “The Divine Heir was very hospitable. He sends you his well wishes.”

Isshin waited. When nothing more came, he huffed. “Is that all?”

“What more do you want me to say, Grandfather?”

Isshin shook his head at his grandson’s pig-headedness. It shouldn’t be any surprise though that Genichiro, as an alpha, would want to guard his omega from other alphas. Even when those other alphas included his grandfather. “Bah! Pour some sake, will you? We’ve both had a long day.”

Genichiro obeyed and passed Isshin a cup. Isshin finished it in two gulps, savouring the clear taste of the sake.

“Grandfather,” Genichiro said after a moment. “I want to speak to you about the ceremony.”

Isshin paused. His grandson’s cup of sake remained untouched in his hand, and there was a crack of eagerness in his otherwise neutral expression. “What about it?”

“The sooner it takes place,” Genichiro said, “the sooner the Divine Heir can be moved to Ashina Castle.”

“Genichiro,” Isshin said, setting his cup down. “The agreement was to have three years of courtship. _You_ agreed to it. You cannot back down on your word now."

His grandson’s demeanor remained unchanged. “If the Interior Ministry attacks, Hirata won’t stand a chance.”

“You’ve kept the Ministry at bay for a while, now.”

A shadow passed over Genichiro’s face. “I won’t be able to do so for long,” he said. “I need the Divine Heir at my side if I am to keep him safe.”

“I can’t allow it,” Isshin said firmly.

Genichiro’s eyes flashed, but before he could say anything, Isshin held up a hand for silence. “Think about it. If anybody, any spy at all, heard of your haste for the mating ceremony, they may think that we are weakening – that we’re afraid of the Ministry’s attacks and are therefore planning to hole up here in the castle. Tokugawa will attack us, and I have no doubt that he’d turn to Hirata when he sees that their lord is gone.”

Isshin eyed his brooding grandson. Genichiro would have thought of this. He wasn’t a fool. No, it was surely his need as an alpha that was showing through. Being with Kuro would’ve affected him, stimulated his primal instincts.

Isshin sighed. Hopefully Kuro would be strong enough to handle his boar-headed grandson when the time came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a visit from Geni to brighten your day loll  
> I had to do a bit of research for the banquet; I love writing lots of food into banquets, but from what I gathered, this time period doesn't really go for extravagance. The food I mentioned here can be found on Wikipedia XD
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! :D


	7. The Alpha Wolf

A gust of wind blew through the window of Kuro’s study, ruffling Wolf’s hair and chasing away Genichiro’s scent at the same time. It was only a few days since the general’s departure; the corridors of the Hirata Estate still reeked of his smell, and it wasn’t going to disappear any time soon, but Wolf could push past it. At the very least, Genichiro wasn’t here to leer at his lord anymore.

As for Lord Kuro, he sat at the desk, going through reports and other documents, silhouetted against the spring sunlight. Wolf found himself admiring his lord’s small movements: the slight cant of Lord Kuro’s head as he read a document, the curve of his fingers as he picked up the next one, the loose strand of hair that brushed against his neck – 

Wolf stopped himself. Contentment gave way to frustration, searing through his chest. Why did he keep losing himself in these thoughts? He’d been determined to stop it, to resist as much as possible, but all his restraint was crushed each time he looked at Lord Kuro. 

He wanted … What did he want? Wolf shook himself mentally, trying to gain his bearings, but his gaze was soon drawn back to Lord Kuro. He wanted to lean closer and breathe in his lord’s sakura scent, touch his ivory skin and raven hair, and perhaps – just perhaps – press his lips to his lord’s hands, neck, mouth … 

He wanted to protect him, too. Protect him from all that might take advantage of him.

Genichiro appeared in his mind’s eye, and Wolf bit back a snarl. To watch the general standing over Lord Kuro, teasing him, eager to _take_ him – it was a pain that Wolf wasn’t familiar with. A need so great that it tortured him, but he could only stand by and watch as Lord Kuro was claimed by another alpha.

Wolf didn’t know when he’d started feeling the way he did. It was all a blur of memory and moments, with his lord remaining clear at the center. When Lord Kuro was young, Wolf had felt the need to protect him as _his_ child. But now … 

Now it was different. Wolf couldn’t help but _want_ him as an omega.

This wanting … It unsettled him. If he were to act on these desires, he would harm Lord Kuro, and even more so since his lord didn’t feel the same … 

Something squeezed in Wolf’s chest at that thought, but it was true. It must be true. Lord Kuro put his duty first, and that was an admirable example to follow after.

He would work on his self-control, Wolf decided, and continue to carry out the duty that Owl had set him. He couldn’t break the Iron Code and back out of this just because of his fears.

Nor was he going to give anybody a reason to separate them. He couldn’t leave his lord, not now. Not ever.

* * *

At night, clouds rolled in and covered the moon. The courtyards were dark, save for the small beacons of the guards’ lanterns.

Kuro shivered with anticipation, awaiting Wolf’s word. The grappling hook fitted snugly to his left arm, and he reminded himself that he’d practiced for this. Of course, Genichiro’s visit had taken away a little extra time, but that was fine. Kuro was ready.

Thinking of Genichiro sent another shiver down his spine, and not a pleasant one. Kuro mentally shook himself. He didn’t want to think too much about the general’s visit. He needed to focus!

“Now, my lord,” Wolf murmured.

In the blink of an eye Kuro activated the hook, thrusting his arm out, and the grappling rope latched onto the nearest roof’s ledge. When the rope reeled in, Kuro leapt up, keeping his form intact and muscles tensed, and was whisked through the air.

A second later, he landed soundly on the roof.

That was only the first part. Kuro dashed across the rooftop, leapt onto the neighbouring building, and activated the grappling hook again. This time, it latched onto the roof of a tower, and Kuro held his breath as he shot forward.

Everything slowed around him, and he saw the roof’s ledge as though formed from mist.

Kuro latched onto it with his free hand. The tile cut into his palm; he winced from the sharp pain, but managed to haul himself up and crouch on the roof. His heart pounded both from exhilaration and exertion. A bit of a rough landing, perhaps, but he’d had less years of training than Wolf.

Kuro peered out into the night, searching for the familiar shape of his shinobi. It seemed that only a few seconds passed before Wolf appeared at his side, eyes glowing bright in the darkness.

“Well done, my lord,” he said. “You did exceptionally.” His voice was low, nearly rumbling with approval.

“It is only because I have such a good teacher,” Kuro replied, warmed by his shinobi’s praise. “I don’t think I would’ve gotten it as well as with someone else.”

A few clouds shifted overhead, and a dim beam of moonlight fell over them. In its light, Kuro saw the shadow of a smile on Wolf’s face.

Amidst the warmth spreading through his chest, Kuro’s heart started up again, faster than ever. He was crouching quite close to Wolf; their knees were nearly touching, and Kuro could almost feel the heat rolling off his shinobi’s form. He caught a whiff of Wolf’s earthy, soothing scent …

_Alpha._

Kuro hadn’t forgotten it. Nor was he planning to speak of it. Nobody else had noticed Wolf’s odd scent except for him, which could only mean that Wolf was doing something to dampen his smell or Kuro was simply mistaken.

But he couldn’t be mistaken, could he? He’d learned in his lessons that omegas were more perceptive to alphas than betas were. And what he’d caught in Wolf’s scent was just too – too un-beta like, however faint it was.

Kuro remembered his late uncle’s scent. He knew what those advisors who were alphas smelled like. What he’d sensed around Wolf was very similar, if not exactly the same.

Kuro sighed. He ought to just ask Wolf. He had put it off for so long, considering and re-considering, waiting for any sign, any clue, to tell him that he was wrong. He had hoped to be proven wrong at some point, but his shinobi’s scent remained unchanged.

If he was truly an alpha, Kuro needed to know the truth. 

“My lord?” Wolf asked, watching him.

Kuro met his shinobi’s gaze. “Wolf,” he began, “I have something to ask you.”

His shinobi nodded, waiting.

“Are you truly a beta?”

A blanket of silence fell over them. Wolf stared at him in what must be shock. He remained unmoving, yellow eyes searching Kuro’s face with an intensity that made Kuro’s neck warm up.

“My lord,” Wolf eventually said, and his voice had never sounded so ragged before. “Why do you ask me this?”

“Your scent,” Kuro said, and his shinobi went rigid. “You smell like a beta, but … There’s something a little different about it.”

Wolf said nothing. His silence felt worse than any kind of reply.

“Please,” Kuro whispered, resting a hand on his shinobi’s arm. “I must know. Are you truly a beta?”

He heard a soft exhalation, and then –

“No, my lord. I am not.”

Kuro shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he saw that his shinobi had turned away, looking out over the Hirata Estate’s buildings.

“You are an alpha?” Kuro breathed.

Wolf lowered his head. “Yes, my lord.”

Having it confirmed was like a blow to Kuro’s stomach. He tightened his grip on the roof tiles, searching for a proper reply. His shinobi was truly an alpha. And he was right next to Kuro!

Kuro nearly forgot to breathe. He hardly noticed the little space left between them; it was as though there was no space at all.

“Wolf,” he whispered hoarsely. “You know that I’m – I’m an omega.”

His shinobi’s eyes snapped to him. The intensity in them hadn’t dropped; if anything, it increased. “I will not hurt you, my lord,” Wolf said, just as raspy as Kuro.

Kuro swallowed hard. “I know.” It was foolish of him – dangerous even – to trust an alpha, not to mention one who had deceived them all this time. But Kuro _did_ trust him, as much as he trusted Nogami Gensai and the other retainers, and his people, and his clan. As much as he had trusted his uncle. 

He drew in a shaky breath. Along with the clear air of the night, he took in Wolf’s scent. It was still faint – perhaps by the use of herbs or something similar. But knowing for certain that it belonged to an alpha seemed to strengthen the smell for Kuro’s senses.

“My lord,” Wolf began.

Kuro tightened his grip on his shinobi’s arm, and Wolf fell silent. “I won’t say anything of this,” he said, “and neither will you.”

Wolf’s eyes widened. “But my lord, you know what I am now. If someone finds out, they will charge you with treason.”

“The same could have happened to you, yet you stayed all these years.” Kuro gazed hard at his shinobi. “Why did you and Master Owl come here?”

“Lord Morimasa needed a bodyguard for you,” Wolf explained quietly. “He asked for a shinobi from the Usui Clan, and Owl recommended me.”

“And Owl knows that you’re an alpha?”

“Yes.”

Of course he would. The Great Shinobi Owl had raised and trained Wolf. He’d know almost everything about his trainee and adopted son. “And your scent …?”

Wolf reached into the folds of his kosode and brought out a small object. A pouch enveloped in a clear, bland scent.

“Herbs?” Kuro said, his suspicions confirmed.

Wolf nodded. “He supplied me with these while I was assigned here, to suppress my cycles and senses.”

“But why? Why did he have you conceal yourself?”

“I don’t know,” Wolf murmured. 

Kuro digested all of his, thinking back to his older memories of Wolf. He’d suspected nothing before his presentation; it was only after that he’d noticed something off. 

But if Wolf was wearing these herbs, how could Kuro notice his alpha scent at all?

_Might it have something to do with my Heritage?_

The Dragon’s Heritage. A rare gift, as his late uncle called it. One that made Kuro’s blood special, and one that would eventually draw others to him, whether good or bad. Perhaps it heightened his senses, allowing him to catch some smaller things that others could not?

In all honesty, Kuro wasn’t sure. Even his uncle didn't know much about the Dragon’s Heritage, save that whoever Kuro gave his blood to would receive immortality, and that it could only be given to one.

So far, nobody knew that he bore the Heritage, save for Lord Isshin. Nor was Kuro about to spread the word about it. Immortality was a desirable thing, and, as his uncle once said, a dangerous one.

And there were other things that needed focus. The war with the Interior Ministry. Wolf being an alpha.

Kuro refocused on his shinobi. “Wolf,” he said. “Where does your loyalty lie?”

Wolf’s gaze bore into his. “With you, my lord. Always.”

The words echoed in his ears, making his heart jump. “Then you shall remain silent on this, and so will I. Even though the intent of your being here is questionable, I can’t afford to lose you now. My clan must stay strong. I won’t have us divided at this time. Do you understand?”

Wolf bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.”

“Good.”

Kuro paused. There was one other reason. It was selfish of him, but he simply didn’t want Wolf to be cast out. Amidst all the retainers and servants, advisors and vassals and nobles, Kuro wanted Wolf at his side the most.

Kuro’s chest ached. He couldn’t go forth alone. He wasn’t strong enough.

The return to his rooms was silent. Kuro slipped through the window and turned to face Wolf, only to find his shinobi perched on the windowsill. His eyes fixed on Kuro’s face, searching. “My lord?”

 _I’ll keep you safe,_ Kuro thought. _I promise._

“Goodnight, Wolf,” he said aloud.

His shinobi inclined his head. “And to you, my lord.” Then he was gone, hoisting himself up onto the rooftop with ease.

Kuro changed into his yukata and lay down on the futon. His muscles ached from the lesson, but it was a good ache, one that Kuro had gotten used to over the years. He was getting stronger, and he had his trainers to thank for that, especially Wolf.

Kuro turned on his side with a sigh, unable to banish Wolf’s face from his mind. What he felt for his shinobi was something … new. Something different than what he felt for his retainers, his late uncle, his people. He cared for Wolf. No, Kuro corrected himself, he cared _very_ much for him. Perhaps too much, more than what was proper for a lord and his shinobi.

But for Kuro, it was entirely inappropriate. He was promised to Genichiro! Within a year he’d be moved to Ashina Castle, carrying out his duty to Ashina.

Standing at Genichiro’s side as his mate. Serving him. Lying underneath him in a darkened room, caught in a cage of iron limbs, tangled sheets all around them.

Kuro sucked in a shaky breath. He felt bare and small despite the blankets covering him. It was traitorous to his people, his homeland. But he didn’t – he didn’t want –

He wanted to be at _Wolf’s_ side _._

And that … that could never happen.

Kuro squeezed his eyes shut, keeping the tears at bay. It was not until past midnight that he fell into an uneasy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp Kuro finally had a talk with Wolf XDD Aaand both he and Wolf are getting a better idea on what they want ... Too bad society and customs gotta get in the way heheh
> 
> Your kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! <3


	8. The Dragon's Blood

The courtship continued throughout the year. Kuro steadily ran out of ideas for gifts to send; he used up the calligraphy set, made all the sweets he could think of, and even had two more ornamented arrows crafted. The weapons in his room were moved to the armoury, set upon a shelf designated for his use. That left space aplenty for the next gifts that Genichiro sent.

Kuro tried not to think about Genichiro too much. It was more than enough that he saw the general in his dreams these days. Kuro couldn’t tell if they stood on a high tower or in a field; everything was wreathed in shadowy mist. Thunder always rumbled in the distance of his dreamscape.

Most of the time, Genichiro was fully armoured whenever Kuro dreamed of him. Recently, however, he’d shed his clothes and cover Kuro completely, wrapping them both in shadow. 

Throughout it all, those sharp, hungry eyes bored into his own. Kuro wished that they would turn dark brown, or perhaps a glowing yellow to pierce the night, but they never did.

He woke in a cold sweat each time.

It didn’t make sense. The general had done nothing wrong to him during his last visit, so why did Kuro have these dreams? Was it a premonition of sorts? A sign from the gods?

 _No,_ a voice whispered in his mind, _you’re just making excuses._ It was his own fear of the general, of what it would mean to be his mate. He’d never been this afraid before Genichiro’s visit, but after seeing the general for himself …

Kuro drew in a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He couldn’t afford to let these feelings control him. He had to lead his clan, protect his people, and serve his lords. That meant being with Genichiro. If Kuro didn’t go through this, he’d let everybody, even his uncle’s spirit, down.

And Wolf would surely be disappointed too.

His shinobi understood duty. He was strong, carrying out his work without complaint or a second thought. With Kuro's permission, Owl sent Wolf out on a few more missions throughout the months, and Wolf moved swiftly to complete them.

Hirata Estate always felt emptier when his shinobi was absent. Kuro was determined to follow Wolf’s example, and so he worked tirelessly to lead his clan, to the point that his servants worried over his health. Kuro only chuckled and reassured them with a kindly word.

Yet despite the distraction of work, a hollowness remained in his chest through the days, deepening further each night.

 _Wolf,_ he prayed on one such night, _be safe. Return to me in one piece._

Kuro soon fell asleep, entering the dreamscape. Fleeting images passed him by like smoke on the wind, slipping through his fingers. His feet settled on what felt like tatami mats, but as for where he was, he couldn’t tell.

A familiar presence appeared behind him. Kuro turned, already knowing who it was, yet still caught in a sense of dread.

Genichiro stood over him, armoured, eyes gleaming with a copper light. “Divine Heir,” he said, and his voice rumbled with thunder in the distance.

Kuro remained still as Genichiro’s hands slid over his shoulders, brushing against his neck, leaving cold tingles on Kuro’s skin. Their chests were nearly touching.

“My omega,” Genichiro said. “Will you give all that you have to me?”

Kuro had no choice in that, so why was he asking?

As though hearing his thoughts, Genichiro shook his head. There was a slight smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes. _"_ _All_ that you have, my omega. Your body, and with it, your blood.”

Kuro froze. “My blood?” he repeated.

Genichiro stepped closer, and Kuro stepped away. Part of him knew it was still a dream, but it all felt so real. Nor had Genichiro ever asked this in a dream. He never said anything, in fact.

“Will you disobey your alpha?” Genichiro asked, dangerously soft.

Kuro swallowed. Thunder crashed through the shadows around them, and then they were both on the floor in a tangle of limbs. Kuro thrashed with all his might, but the general’s grip on him was like iron, fingers digging into Kuro’s waist. Genichiro shoved his face against the curve of Kuro’s neck, and Kuro felt the sharp pinch of _teeth –_

Every instinct in Kuro, every loose thread and bond, latched onto the alpha general. No other alpha could be with him after this.

 _Not even my shinobi …_

Kuro screamed.

When Genichiro drew back to look at him, pupils blown full with lust, Kuro lunged at him with both hands outstretched.

The shadows fell upon them, and everything went black.

“My lord!”

Kuro fought against the arms that held him, trying to pull away from the grip upon his wrists. “Not yours,” he snarled. “I’m not yours!”

Something tight grasped his shoulders, and Kuro flinched from the pain. _"_ _My lord!_ ” someone hissed. “Open your eyes.”

That voice … He knew that voice, didn’t he? Kuro obeyed, blinking the blurriness from his vision, and saw a familiar face before him.

Kuro all but melted with relief. “Wolf!” he gasped, and within a heartbeat found himself leaning against his shinobi’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. Wolf’s scarf slipped, and Kuro inhaled a lungful of his earthy scent. Every part of him stiffened, even – he blushed – the member between his legs.

“You are safe, my lord,” Wolf murmured, his grip firm on Kuro’s shoulders.

Kuro remained still, waiting for his sudden arousal to subside, and shifted his head so that he didn’t have to breathe in Wolf’s full scent right from his glands. Mortification welled in his stomach as he relaxed. Wolf must have just returned, only to see his lord in such a state! Kuro wanted to bury his head in his hands and never look up again.

As it was, his face was pressed into the worn fabric of Wolf’s haori. It was rough but warm, and covered in the fresh aroma of the scent-masking herbs. Kuro raised a hand and gingerly laid it upon Wolf’s chest, feeling the strong heartbeat under his palm, heat permeating through cloth.

Wolf didn’t push him away. He couldn’t even if he wanted to, and Kuro knew this. It sent a pang through his chest, but he wasn’t about to stay in this position if Wolf wasn’t comfortable with it.

He was only glad that nobody was around to see. A young lord, caught in his shinobi’s arms! If word reached Ashina Castle, Kuro could only imagine how it would be interpreted. And especially by Genichiro …

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the lingering tendrils of the nightmare. It was only a dream, nothing more.

With much reluctance, he withdrew from his shinobi’s hold. Cool air blew between them, chilling Kuro’s skin where Wolf had warmed him.

His shinobi gazed at him with bright, concerned eyes. “Are you truly well, my lord?”

Kuro nodded. “It was only a nightmare. I’m alright now.”

“I …” Wolf paused. “I heard you talking. In your sleep.”

Kuro moistened his lips. What had he said? He wanted to know, but he didn’t dare ask Wolf. Oh gods – had he spoken Genichiro’s name? An uncomfortable heat flushed his face.

“Don’t mind it, Wolf,” he said, keeping his composure. “I’ll be alright now. And you … How was your mission?”

“It was successful,” Wolf replied. He showed no surprise at the sudden change in topic. 

“That’s good to hear.” Kuro wiped his forehead with the back of his hand; it was covered in a thin layer of sweat.

Within seconds, Wolf went to the bath chamber and returned with a damp cloth. “Here, my lord,” he murmured.

Kuro wiped his face with it, feeling slightly better. “Thank you, Wolf. For waking me, and – for being here.”

His shinobi bowed. “I will always be here for you, my lord, should you need me.”

Kuro smiled. His lower lip trembled, and he bit it to keep still, but it did nothing for the lump in his throat.

He did need Wolf, perhaps more than either of them knew. For now though, Kuro was glad to have him back.

It wasn’t until a week later that Kuro felt the full force of Wolf’s absence.

*

*

*

Fires raged all around the Hirata Estate. Kuro was awake, scrambling out of his futon, just as Nogami Gensai, his brother Inosuke, and the other Nogami retainers burst into his room.

“My lord! We must go,” Gensai shouted over the roaring of the flames outside.

Kuro could hardly breathe, both from shock and the increasing weight of smoke in the air. “What – what’s happening?” Orange light blazed from outside his window, and the moon was blocked by dark clouds. 

“An ambush. Here, my lord.” Gensai handed Kuro his katana, the gift from Genichiro, and Kuro tied it around his waist.

As they hurried into the corridor, Gensai explained. “Bandits and thieves – They got through our defences, and there were no samurai to stop them!”

No samurai. Kuro’s heart seized in his chest. He’d sent all his remaining samurai to rally under Genichiro at Isshin’s command, not three weeks ago. The war with the Ministry was getting worse, and Genichiro needed every man he could get.

Kuro would’ve expected the Ministry to be behind this attack. But bandits and thieves? 

They took a turn into another corridor, and Kuro frowned. “Where is General Nobuharu?” he demanded.

“Outside, my lord.”

“Why aren’t we going to where he is? We must help him!” Kuro halted and turned around, but Gensai and the others blocked his path.

“No, my lord!” Gensai said, and Kuro was startled by his forceful tone. “Your safety is our priority. The guards were overrun, and there is no telling if anyone survived.”

“But the people!” Kuro exclaimed, anger and fear bubbling in his gut. “My people – what has become of them?”

“We cannot be sure, not now.”

“I must go to them.”

“You cannot, my lord,” Gensai insisted. “There are _alphas_ out there, some half-mad with rut. If they find you, they will tear you apart. Skilled though you are, your strength is no match for theirs, not even against a beta.”

Kuro squeezed his eyes shut for a heartbeat. He must think. He couldn’t rush headlong into this. “Then _you_ must go and help my people. Take some of my retainers with you. Wolf will guard me –”

“The shinobi is missing.”

Kuro froze. _“What?_ But he was supposed to be back by now!” Back from a recent mission that Owl sent him on. Wolf had sworn to return in a day, before midnight.

Timber creaked nearby. The air was getting hotter; one of the estate buildings must have caught fire. Outside, screams and shouts rose into the night, mingling with the crackling of flames.

“He should have woken you first, my lord,” Gensai said. Fury laced his words. “But he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Even the guards missed him when the fires reached us.”

Kuro’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Wolf – where was he? Why had he not returned?

A wooden shoji shattered nearby, followed by growling voices. In the blink of an eye, Gensai and the others whisked Kuro away, hurrying down the corridor at great speed. Kuro recognized the path; they were heading for Hirata’s audience chamber, and from there, the hidden temple beneath the estates.

Kuro’s mind flashed back to nine years ago. Had it really been that long? It was the first attack he’d experienced – most of it spent in the safety of the temple. Wolf had found him there. If – _once_ he returned, he would know where to look for Kuro.

“How could they get past our defences so easily?” he demanded.

“Someone must have told them, my lord,” Inosuke said. “A spy, or –”

Kuro glanced at Gensai and saw the dark gleam in his eyes. _He doesn't think –?_ No, that could not be so. Wolf would never betray them. Kuro refused to even think of it.

“We will find them later,” he said. “For now –” He took Gensai’s arm. “I need you to help the people. That is an order. Inosuke will remain with me, and I know how to defend myself.”

Gensai gazed hard at him for what felt like ages. Eventually he nodded stiffly. “I will return, my lord.”

There was no guarantee of that, but Kuro hoped with all his heart that he would. “I will wait for you.”

Gensai and half of the retainers went off to join the fighting. Now left with Inosuke and only a few others, Kuro continued on his path even as it tore at him. This wasn’t right. He should be out there with his men. not hiding away from it all!

They came into the audience chamber. Movement stirred in Kuro’s peripheral, and he swiftly raised his blade to block an attack, following close with a counter attack to his opponent’s throat.

His opponent – it was a man made of mist.

Kuro stared, his heart racing. The mist figure dissolved, and an echoing laugh rang through the chamber.

“My lord,” Inosuke breathed, raising his katana in a defensive stance. “Go to the hidden temple. I will hold off the assailants. Here –” He reached into his haori and brought out a ring of keys. “Lock the doors.”

“Inosuke,” Kuro protested.

 _“Now,_ my lord! We cannot afford to lose you!”

The few other retainers joined Inosuke, forming a wall. Kuro swallowed and hurried down the hall to the end of the chamber. The floor was covered in tatami mats; the centre mat was in fact a large, wooden block, and he pushed it aside to reveal a hidden stairway. He rushed down the stairs to the temple’s entrance, unlocked the doors, and went inside.

It was exactly as he remembered it from all those years ago, save for the fires that now ate at the ceiling. The large statue of Buddha remained at the far side, unconcerned with its surroundings.

Kuro couldn’t stay here. The fires would eat at the ceiling’s rafters and trail down the pillars. Already small pieces of timbre were beginning to fall. 

He turned to leave, only to find another mist figure running towards him.

 _What is that?_ Kuro cut it down without hesitation. Sweat trickled down the side of his face.

“Well, now,” a new voice said from somewhere above. Kuro spun around, searching for the source, but couldn’t find it. “It seems the young prince has lost his way.”

Kuro scanned the temple, keeping a side-eye out for falling debris. That voice … It was the source of the laugh he’d heard before. It sounded very much like an … old woman? And if that were true, then where was she?

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“An acquaintance of your wolf.” The voice seemed to move, first from the far end of the temple and now off to the side.

 _Where is he?_ The question was on the tip of Kuro’s tongue, but he held it back.

The voice chuckled. “You must be wondering where he’s gone off.”

Kuro was determined not to give her the satisfaction.

“Oh, come now, Divine Heir. No need to be stubborn.” 

“Are you behind this attack?” Kuro asked levelly.

“Not myself, per se,” the voice replied. “Rather, I thought I’d join in. Nor would I miss the chance to see this omega of Hirata.”

Kuro swallowed, tightening his grip on the katana.

“I know you’re afraid, boy.”

The voice sounded right behind him, and Kuro spun around to see an old woman standing six feet away. Her long, white hair hung from the back of her head in a braid. Kuro did not know her, but her scent stirring his instincts with such force that he nearly turned to run.

The woman’s face remained neutral. “There are other alphas out there besides me, and none of them will be as gentle.”

“I will not go with you,” Kuro said with finality.

The corner of her lips twitched upward. In the blink of an eye, she lunged forward with two thin blades. Kuro blocked them; her strength caught him off-guard, but he pushed forward and ducked under a second blow. The woman moved swiftly despite her age, attacking with such precision that Kuro soon found himself on the defensive.

“You fight well, omega,” she eventually said, circling him at a casual pace. She looked as though she’d hardly broken a sweat. “I look forward to seeing what more you can do.”

With that, she leapt into the air, and her laugh echoed throughout the temple. Kuro’s vision began to blur, his senses numbing. Everything went dark, even the fires above.

Panic spiked through him, and he fought to keep his grip on his katana. What was happening?

_“My lord!”_

Kuro heard the sound of a shuriken whistling through the air, followed by a grunt from above. All at once, the mist cleared from his mind, and a strong hand grasped his shoulder. Kuro spun around to see his shinobi. “Wolf!”

Relief flitted across Wolf’s face. Many questions flew through Kuro’s mind: where had Wolf been? What had taken him so long? How was the situation outside?

Before he could ask one, Wolf glanced over Kuro’s shoulder and swiftly moved Kuro behind him. Kuro followed his gaze to see the woman standing a short distance away.

“It’s been a long time,” she said, unsmiling. “Son of Owl.”

“Lady Butterfly,” Wolf murmured.

Kuro stared at him. So he truly was an acquaintance of this – Lady Butterfly? More questions rose to the surface, but he pushed them down. This was not the time.

“Leave us, my lord,” Wolf said, reaching for Kusabimaru at his hip.

“But –” Kuro began to protest. He couldn’t leave his shinobi! Every fibre, every instinct in his being cried out against it.

“My lord,” Wolf said firmly, and perhaps it was Kuro’s heightened senses from the fight, but he could smell his shinobi’s scent clearer than before. The strength of it startled him, filled his nostrils, blocking out the stench of smoke. “Do what must be done.”

Kuro swallowed. “I understand.” He would have to trust Wolf on this, even though it meant running yet again. 

Only this time, he’d run to find his people, defend them from their attackers, if there were any of his clan still living. He’d find General Nobuharu, and together they would come up with a plan, a counter-attack.

And then he’d return to Wolf.

Kuro heard Lady Butterfly speak even as he crossed the threshold out of the temple.

“Well then, Son of Owl. Shall we dance?”

* * *

Wolf’s hackles rose as he drew Kusabimaru. White-hot shivers crawled over his skin as he breathed in her scent, her eagerness to claim that which was _not hers._

Lady Butterfly only laughed, leaping onto invisible wires high above. “He is not yours either,” she said. “Did you think he could be?”

Wolf didn’t answer save for the snarl in his throat. Mist danced in the temple, forming humanoid figures to distract him. 

“That’s it, boy,” she sneered. “Lose yourself in my illusions!”

Wolf simply ignored them and kept his focus on his old mentor. Lord Kuro wasn’t able to defeat her, untrained as he was in the art of illusion. But Wolf was.

She had trained him in his youth alongside Owl, clouding his mind with illusions until he could see through them. Making him throw shuriken after shuriken until his aim was perfected. He was familiar with her form and style, and wasted no time in putting his knowledge to use.

He was a boy no longer. Nor was she a woman in her prime.

A well-aimed shuriken knocked her to the ground, and he took the opportunity to drive Kusabimaru through his old mentor’s chest.

Her eyes widened in surprise. Dark blood seeped through her kimono, spurting as he drew his blade out. 

“Lady Butterfly,” he murmured. “Forgive me.”

She wheezed, collapsing on her side. “You’ve … gotten stronger … Wolf.”

And then she was gone. All that was left were the roaring flames around him.

 _Lord Kuro._ He must find him. He’d been quick enough to reach Lord Kuro before Lady Butterfly took his lord’s mind. But now Lord Kuro could be anywhere in the Hirata Estate.

Wolf cursed himself. He should have moved faster, arrived sooner!

He made to leave the temple, yet a rumbling sound halted him. The large statue of Buddha shifted forward, its supports destroyed, and fell to the ground. A wave of dust and ash blew throughout the hall.

Wolf shielded his face with one arm. He couldn’t stay here – 

White-hot fire slashed through his chest, and a choked gasp escaped his throat. Everything tunneled as he looked down; his hand wrapped around a long blade stained with his blood.

_What … How …_

No one could have arrived without him sensing it … No one could have …

The katana withdrew with a sharp flare of pain, and Wolf fell to the floor.

 _Lord Kuro,_ he thought, and all went dark.

*

*

*

Amidst the nothingness, a voice reached him in a soft whisper, carried on the scent of sakura flowers.

_Loyal Wolf, take my blood and live again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an event from the game appears! Yaayy  
> Also Kuro gets to put his sword training to use! Yaaaayy  
> I kinda felt bad that I had to leave him out of the action outside Hirata (since he's a lord and an omega), so why not put him in a fight against Lady Butterfly? XDDDD
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! <3


	9. Ashina Castle

Genichiro surveyed the destruction of the Hirata Estate.

Ash flitted to the floor, coating it in a layer of grey that matched the sky above. The outer gates were all but demolished, and the clan’s houses were mere bits of timber. The estate’s outer gates and courtyard were destroyed, caught in the full force of flames from the attack. The inside of the main buildings bore all evidence of a raid.

It was foolish of him in hindsight, but he had not expected an ambush to take place, not even after Hirata’s samurai were called away. The defenses still held strong around the estate, and one would think they’d have no problem with mere bandits. But this …

“My lord.”

Genichiro glanced over as Gyoubu approached on his horse. “There may be a slight delay,” his retainer reported. “The Divine Heir … He has a disagreement with your orders.”

Indeed? How odd. Genichiro nodded to Gyoubu and directed his own steed through the inner gate.

The Divine Heir and a smattering of survivors were arranged in the courtyard, having tended to the fallen already. Their possessions were meager; Kuro himself carried a few items. The clan had been small to begin with, but now it consisted only of its lord, one blinded retainer, an old woman, and a wearied general. The attack was a massacre; hardly any of the clan’s people were left.

Genichiro dismounted and strode up to the Divine Heir. The tendrils of his earlier urgency had not yet left him; he’d arrived at the estate early this morning, having heard of the attack, ready to search the whole of the estates to find his omega. Surprisingly, the Divine Heir was the first one he encountered as the latter moved through the clan’s houses, searching for survivors.

At the moment Kuro knelt on the ground next to a prone figure – the shinobi. His yukata bore stains from the bandits’ blood.

The shinobi, on the other hand, lay on his back, eyes closed, looking as dead as any. Genichiro arched an eyebrow in question.

“Your men said that I shouldn’t bring him,” Kuro explained tersely.

“We cannot burden ourselves with the dead,” Genichiro said, keeping his patience. “We must make the journey as quick as we can.”

He had his samurai here to ensure their protection, but he did not want to risk delay. At most there could be bandits hiding along the road.

“He’s not dead!” Kuro said firmly. “He is just – unconscious.”

His hand rested on the shinobi’s shoulder, almost protectively. Genichiro’s brow furrowed. When did his future mate become so attached to his servant?

Kuro must have seen the doubt in his face, for he stood and stepped over to him. “Lord Genichiro,” he said earnestly, “please allow me this. I have already lost my people. I cannot lose another.”

Genichiro gazed down into the Divine Heir’s face. Kuro’s scent spiked with worry, and it did something to Genichiro’s own instincts, making him uneasy in turn.

He glanced again at the shinobi. He could easily replace him with a Nightjar, or even several if it would make Kuro feel better. But if bringing the shinobi would put him at ease … 

An alpha’s duty was to ensure his omega’s well-being, safety, and pleasure. Genichiro turned back to the Divine Heir. “Very well. We will bring him.”

Kuro visibly sagged with relief. “Thank you, Lord Genichiro.”

A breeze gusted over them, and Genichiro inhaled a lungful of Kuro’s sakura scent. “We must hurry,” he said in a low voice, “if we are to make good time to the castle.”

The shinobi went with one of Genichiro’s men, propped up in a saddle. Kuro sat behind Genichiro, arms wrapped around his midriff. A contented rumble built in Genichiro’s throat at the closeness, but he knew to keep it down.

The Hirata Estate soon disappeared behind them.

* * *

Kuro failed.

His clan was gone. His people, his home, nearly everything he knew … It was all gone. He’d been determined to keep them safe, and he’d failed.

His uncle, most of all.

Kuro’s eyes burned with tears, and he squeezed them shut for a heartbeat. He couldn’t show weakness, not now. There would be time to mourn at Ashina Castle.

But, he told himself, he could have done more. He _should_ have done more! He was the lord of Hirata, was he not? He should have given the order earlier to join Hirata’s defence, but instead he’d allowed himself to be swept away to the hidden temple. He’d let his retainers face the threat. For all his training and education over the years, he’d been absolutely _useless_.

Even after he’d gone in search of General Nobuharu, it was already too late. His people were dead and the bandits retreating.

His katana still gleamed with the blood of those he’d caught by surprise. Bile churned in his stomach whenever he thought of the killing. It was one thing to practice in the dojo. A real battle was something else entirely.

If he fought for long enough, would he grow numb to it all? Was that how uncle felt? His samurai?

Kuro glanced back at the only survivors of the Hirata Clan. Lady Nogami sat with one of Genichiro’s men, her eyes glazed over. Kuro winced; Nogami Gensai had fallen during the attack, and it rattled the spike of guilt in Kuro’s heart.

Nobuharu, though exhausted and beaten, sat on his mount well enough, yet there was a look of despair in his eyes to match Kuro’s own. Nogami Inosuke sat behind him; bandages covered his bloodied eyes, a result of Lady Butterfly’s illusions. Kuro trembled whenever he thought of the woman, whether from anger or fear, he did not know. He’d been a fool enough to think that he could face Lady Butterfly in a fight, but now, after what he saw of her strength …

Seated on another horse was Wolf, slumped forward in front of another of Genichiro’s men, still unconscious. Kuro was never going to forget the image of his shinobi lying on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood. The horror had overtaken him then, pushing him forward until he was at Wolf’s side, gathering him in his arms, and speaking the forbidden words –

_Take my blood and live again._

A patch of white covered Wolf’s right temple, travelling along the side of his hair and up his topknot. An effect of the dragon’s blood, no doubt. Kuro swallowed and looked away, facing forward. So far nobody had mentioned the change in Wolf’s appearance, but it was only a matter of time.

He didn’t regret it, though. It was selfish of him, but he didn’t regret saving Wolf’s life. He needed his shinobi at his side. He’d lost so many already.

_Uncle,_ Kuro prayed, lowering his face, _please forgive me. For everything._

Ashina Castle loomed large and cold above them.

Kuro gazed up at it with much trepidation. This was to be his home from this moment onward. If only it didn’t look so … intimidating.

Rather like Genichiro himself.

They were shown to their chambers within the castle. Kuro’s room was near the top of the castle, and more spacious than he expected or even needed. An altar stood at the far side of the main room, with a prayer mat before it and a suit of samurai armour behind. Off to the left was a section of closed shoji doors; Kuro slid one open and took in a whiff of dust. He sneezed.

Inside were shelves filled with books. A library? Kuro made a mental note to visit it later, once he and the others were all settled in.

Off to the right were the bedrooms. Inosuke and Lady Nogami were given a room there; Kuro refused to leave them after all that had happened. Wolf was laid in the second room; he was still unconscious. General Nobuharu declined from staying in Kuro’s chamber, claiming that his place was now with the dogs. Kuro calmly refused to dismiss him, and arrangements were made to allow Nobuharu a place in the Ashina advisors’ quarters.

“I trust this is satisfactory, Divine Heir?” Genichiro asked, standing in the middle of the room near the prayer mat.

“Yes,” Kuro replied. “Thank you. Lord Genichiro.”

“The stairs there lead up to the tower lookout. You will have a good view of the lands around the castle.”

“You are most generous,” Kuro said politely. In truth, any sort of rooms would have suited him. Seeing this room, vast and comfortable, rattled the guilt in his chest. How could he deserve such accommodations after failing his clan?

And how was he to use all this space? He hardly had any possessions, save for the few brought out of Hirata – his katana, jinkai, and a cream-coloured haori. He also carried his bell charm and Wolf’s reed whistle, tucked into the folds of his kimono, nestled close to his heart.

Genichiro’s gaze grew in intensity, and Kuro felt his face flush with warmth. “If there is anything you need,” the general said, “I will do what I can to provide.”

“You do not have to –” Kuro began to protest.

“But I will,” Genichiro said, his voice low, “for my omega.”

Kuro fell silent, realizing just then that they were standing within two feet of each other. He could feel the heat rolling off of Genichiro’s form; his musky scent seeped through the air, enveloping Kuro, overpowering him, touching his instincts.

He shook himself mentally. This was _not_ the time. “I – I must see to my people now …”

_His people._ Only a few remained, hardly enough to call a clan.

But they were still alive, weren’t they? As long as Kuro and his subjects lived, Hirata still remained.

“I will call for a physician,” Genichiro offered. “Perhaps one for your retainer, and your shinobi?”

Kuro’s heart leapt into his throat. A physician … If Wolf was examined, they’d realize that he was an alpha –

He couldn’t allow that to happen!

And yet … Kuro didn’t know if Wolf was _truly_ alright. He’d given him the dragon’s blood, Kuro’s blood, with the immortal oath. But had Kuro done it too late? Was there something he’d missed?

Not to mention, if he refused a physician’s help for Wolf, it would look suspicious. Kuro swallowed, considering his options. Genichiro was waiting.

“That would be much appreciated,” he said eventually. “Thank you.”

The weight of Genichiro’s gaze lingered on Kuro’s face long after the general departed.

After checking on Inosuke and Lady Nogami, Kuro went into Wolf’s room and knelt by his side. His shinobi’s chest rose and fell evenly, but the movement was very slight.

Kuro breathed deeply, taking in Wolf’s earthy scent. He had only a short time before the physicians arrived.

“Forgive me, Wolf,” he whispered. Then he slipped his hands into the folds of Wolf’s haori, feeling his shitagi for any small objects, searching even his layer of innermost clothing. The cloth was so thin that Kuro could feel the firm planes of his shinobi’s hard chest. Kuro blushed fiercely, but kept going.

And then he felt it: the small pouch of herbs! Kuro removed it from Wolf’s clothes and breathed in its fresh, masking scent. It was still fresh.

He proceeded to rub the pouch all over Wolf’s neck and palms, hoping to mask at least his main scent glands so that the physician tending to him would not notice. As Kuro worked, his fingers brushed against Wolf’s neck. He shivered; his shinobi’s skin was warm, and his pulse beat strongly there.

“Wolf?” Kuro whispered. On impulse, he gently touched his shinobi’s face, tracing the patch of white on his temple. Wolf did not respond.

The sound of a sliding shoji outside reached Kuro’s ears, and he hastily stashed the pouch of herbs into his kimono. Seconds later, there was a knock on the shoji of Wolf’s room.

“Yes?” Kuro said.

“I am one of the physicians sent by Lord Genichiro,” a voice said.

“You may enter.” On the other side of the wall, Kuro heard someone enter Inosuke’s room, followed shortly by the soft murmuring of voices.

The physician who entered was a woman dressed in a red kimono. Her haori was purple, and a pouch hung from her shoulder. She bowed and knelt beside the futon, and Kuro caught the scent of a beta.

“What is your name?” he asked, trying to calm the pounding of his heart.

“I am Emma,” she replied. “I am in service to Lord Isshin; Lord Genichiro said that you have need of me. My companion is tending to your other retainer.”

Kuro nodded in acknowledgement. “My shinobi was – knocked unconscious during the attack.”

“I see. Would you prefer to stay, Lord Kuro?”

Kuro nodded firmly.

Emma looked at Wolf’s prone form with a critical eye. The procedure that followed was more nerve-wracking that Kuro expected. He watched as Emma parted Wolf’s shitagi, feeling his pulse, checking his torso.

Then she removed his footwear and tabi, and rolled his hakama up to check his legs. Once she was satisfied, she turned to Kuro.

“He is stable,” she said at the end of it. “There are no serious wounds that I can see. Keep an eye on him; he will likely wake soon, if not in a day’s time.”

Kuro sighed with relief. “Thank you, Lady Emma.”

A small smile formed on her face. “You are most welcome, my lord. If you need anything more, don’t hesitate to summon me.” With that, she bowed and left the room.

Kuro exhaled a long, heavy breath. Wolf was safe, for now. Reassured of that, he left the room, only to find the second physician waiting outside.

The news for Inosuke was not as hopeful as with Wolf’s.

“He will never see again,” the second physician said in a low voice. “I am sorry, my lord, but his eyes are ruined. And after looking him over, I doubt that he will have long to live.”

“But – why?” Kuro gasped. “What other wounds does he have? Can’t you heal him?”

“I have done what I can, my lord. Whatever he faced during the attack, it did not leave him well-off.”

“I can see that,” Kuro said through gritted teeth.

“Forgive me, my lord.”

Lady Butterfly. It had to be her. Kuro had left Inosuke in the audience chamber to face the threat, only for Lady Butterfly to follow Kuro into the hidden temple … She had gotten past Inosuke, leaving him on the floor, his eyes torn out and the sockets seeping with blood.

Kuro had found him there on his way outside. He’d wanted to scream, throw up, cry, and take Inosuke away to safety.

And Lady Nogami – he’d found her huddled on the floor in another room, trembling all over, babbling about a horrible vision. Now she was still and silent, her gaze distant.

Kuro had done this to them. It was no one’s fault but his.

“Thank you,” he managed. The physician bowed and departed.

Inside the room, Inosuke lay on the futon with his mother at his side. She patted his shoulder with a slow, measured rhythm, almost absentmindedly. She did not look up as Kuro knelt on the other side of the futon.

“Inosuke?” he whispered.

Fresh bandages covered Inosuke’s eyes, tied around his head. His retainer’s lips parted and released a ragged breath.

“My lord?” he rasped.

Kuro laid his hand over Inosuke’s. “I am here.”

“Thank Buddha … you are well …”

“Yes,” Kuro murmured. “I am. Please rest now, loyal Inosuke.”

Soon all that could be heard was the shallow breathing of his retainer as he slept. Lady Nogami remained silent, patting her son’s shoulder. Kuro blinked back the tears in his eyes and left them to their quiet.

* * *

A heartbeat echoed in Wolf’s ears as he floated in the darkness.

He smelled something sweet … A flower, perhaps. It tugged at his memory, wrapped around him, stirring his senses. He tried to reach for it, but his arms did not move.

He refused to let that stop him. He followed the scent, traced it, and soon felt himself settle into something – heavy.

His senses sharpened. He could feel his fingers, his toes.

He could smell the floral scent all around him. It was pleasant, alluring, desirable. Sweet as sakura.

Wolf opened his eyes.

His vision cleared, and he found himself in a bedroom. Lying on a futon. With his haori and other clothes removed – save for his hakama.

And his lord kneeling by the futon.

“Lord Kuro!” Wolf scrambled to get into a kneeling position, painfully conscious of the fact that his whole torso was bare.

“Wolf, wait!” his lord exclaimed. “Slow down –”

His words came too late. A rush of dizziness took over Wolf’s mind, and he planted his hand on the futon to keep his balance, breathing heavily.

“H-how do you feel?” Lord Kuro asked after an awkward pause.

Wolf raised his head. His lord appeared unharmed, kneeling straight and tall as always. His dark hair hung loose against his shoulders. “Are you well, my lord?”

“I –” Exasperation flitted across Lord Kuro’s face. “Yes, I am. Now, tell me how _you_ feel.”

“I am … fine,” Wolf replied. The scent of this room was unfamiliar, but there was something about it that sent a warning tingle over his skin. “Where are we?”

“We are in Ashina Castle,” his lord replied. “Lord Genichiro brought us here.”

Wolf stilled. _The castle …_ And Genichiro … That explained the unwelcoming note in the room’s scent. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?”

He thought back to the Hirata Estate. It came to him in fragmented recollections, as though partly veiled by mist. “There was the attack,” he said slowly. “You were in the hidden temple … with Lady Butterfly …”

“Yes,” Lord Kuro said quietly, his gaze intense.

“I killed her.”

Wolf remembered the fires in the temple, the heady stench of his mentor’s scent – her desire for his lord. A low growl rumbled in his throat.

“Wolf,” Lord Kuro whispered, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Please, you must be quiet. Inosuke and Lady Nogami are in the next room.”

Wolf nodded, cursing himself for his carelessness.

“I heard,” Lord Kuro continued, with an air of hesitancy, “that you knew her before …”

“She trained me,” Wolf replied. “That is all.”

“Owl trained you also, didn’t he?”

“Yes. He is the one who employed her as my mentor.”

Lord Kuro looked startled by that. “I see.”

“My lord,” Wolf said suddenly. The need to explain himself overtook him, and his words came out in a rush. “Forgive me for not being there. I – My mission went for longer than expected. I didn't mean to – I understand if you desire my punishment, or to send me away.”

The very thought of it was like an iron band around Wolf’s chest, crushing his ribs, tightening until he could no longer breathe. But he deserved this punishment. He had failed his lord. He had tried to carry out the mission as quickly as possible …

But not fast enough.

His mission had been to escort travellers to the Usui Clan in safety. All of Owl’s experienced shinobi were occupied with other work, and the rest weren’t yet skilled enough for his liking. So he’d summoned Wolf with Lord Kuro’s permission.

Lord Kuro regarded him for a moment. The silence grew to a suffocating degree, enough that a bead of sweat trickled down the back of Wolf’s neck.

“You knew nothing of the attack?” his lord asked eventually.

Wolf’s hand tightened over the futon sheets. Did his lord think him to be part of the ambush? His chest burned to consider it. “No, my lord, not until a scout came to us with the news. I hurried back as fast as I could.”

Lord Kuro’s face was kept neutral. “I see. I don’t suppose you know where Owl is?” 

“He –” Wolf swallowed. “He came with me to help defend Hirata. He died in the attack.”

Lord Kuro exhaled a long breath. “I am sorry.”

“There is no need to be.” Wolf remembered his father’s last words, spoken to him amidst the roar of flames. _Protect your master with your life._ “He desired your safety, my lord.”

Lord Kuro bowed his head. “Thank you for telling me … And for coming to my aid. I will not send you away, even though I know you expect it.”

Relief spread through Wolf even as he stared at his lord in surprise. Wasn’t it what he deserved?

Lord Kuro offered a half-smile, but it was stiff. “We are the last of Hirata – you and I, General Nobuharu, Lady Nogami and Inosuke … And I am told Inosuke does not have long to live. I need you by my side. Do you understand?”

Wolf bowed, unable to contain his fervent gratitude. “Yes, my lord.”

“If you _wanted_ to leave me,” Lord Kuro continued, “that would be something else to consider …”

Wolf snapped his head up. “That is not what I want, my lord,” he breathed, incredulous. “If you permit it, I will remain by your side without rest.”

Lord Kuro’s face tinged with pink. The air around them suddenly felt warm despite the room’s wide space.

“I will,” his lord replied, and Wolf relaxed. 

“Now then … What happened after you defeated Lady Butterfly?” Lord Kuro asked, with an air of treading cautious ground.

“I –” The memory came back to Wolf in a rush. “I died.”

Silence. He glanced up at Lord Kuro; the blood drained from his lord’s face, and there was a disturbed furrow between his brows.

“Who killed you?” his lord asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” Frustration burned in Wolf’s chest. No one had managed to sneak up on him before. He always sensed them first. Always.

But there was another thing – how was he here, sitting up and breathing when he should be dead? He raised a hand to his chest; there was no wound in his flesh. How could that be? The katana had pierced his back and erupted through his chest, stilling his heart … 

It must have shown on his face, for Lord Kuro cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Wolf,” he began, “there is something I must tell you.”

Wolf straightened under the weight of his lord’s gaze. Lord Kuro took a breath, and then said, “I swore you into my immortal oath. You now carry my blood in your veins.”

It was as though he was seeing his lord anew. “I have this power called the Dragon’s Heritage,” Lord Kuro continued. “My blood is the dragon’s blood. Whoever I bestow it to will gain immortality.”

Wolf stared at his lord in awe, unable to find words. Lord Kuro, a vessel of such power? “Is that why they call you the Divine Heir?”

“Yes,” Lord Kuro said with a nod. “My uncle decided that we keep it a secret. No one knows of it except for us and Lord Isshin. At least, that’s as much as I know.”

He raised his hand to Wolf’s temple. Wolf’s skin tingled in anticipation; part of him hoped that his lord would touch him, but no contact was made.

“There is a mark on your face,” Lord Kuro said quietly, withdrawing his hand. “A white patch. I believe it is due to the Dragon’s Heritage.”

Wolf touched his temple, but felt nothing out of the ordinary. “I see.”

“I wished to save you.” Something slipped into his lord’s tone. Worry, perhaps. Was he afraid of what Wolf thought?

“I am glad that you did, my lord,” he said seriously. “Now I can continue my duty of protecting you.”

Lord Kuro’s voice was laced with gratitude. “Thank you, Wolf.”

Perhaps Wolf ought to be more concerned. Immortality was a dangerous thing, both coveted and feared. For Lord Kuro to carry such power meant that he would never be completely safe, even if the land was at peace. Wolf doubted it could be kept secret forever.

As long as his duty went unhindered, he had no concern for the dragon’s blood in his veins. He couldn’t afford to dwell on it, in any case. They were in Ashina Castle, Genichiro’s domain, and Wolf had no idea on what to expect in this unfamiliar territory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all remember Inosuke and his mom? They deserved better T_T  
> Also, tabi are those Japanese socks with split toes, if my research is right :)
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! <3


	10. His Chosen One

Over the next couple of weeks, Kuro adjusted to his new life at Ashina Castle. Now that he was there, the end of the year loomed over him like a visible shadow, reminding him of what was to come. 

Seeing Genichiro every day did not help.

As the general’s omega, Kuro had the opportunity to take part in Genichiro’s war meetings. This was a chance for him to learn what he could about the war with the Interior Ministry, perhaps build his skill in politics and battle. Even if it meant sitting next to Genichiro for the duration of the meeting. 

“Tokugawa is gathering his forces from the eastern clans.”

The simple sentence, bearing such a heavy weight, sent a ripple of unease through the chamber. Kuro watched as Genichiro’s councillors muttered to each other, staring at the large map upon the table.

“The Date among them too? Hmph. No doubt they’re hoping to finish us off for good.”

“We have no chance against them! How many forces did they bring to Suriagehara? Imagine how many they’ll bring now!”

The Battle of Suriagehara had taken place around ten years ago, if not more. Kuro learned of it in his history lessons: Ashina and two of her allies attempted to exact revenge for the loss of Kurokawa Castle, a strategic position that was much needed during the war. When the Ashina retreated across the Nippashi River to the castle, the bridge gave out beneath them, leaving many of them to be cut down by the Date Clan’s forces.

Amidst his recollections, the war meeting continued. “Didn’t Lord Isshin deal the Date a blow during the coup?”

“Shuzen Tamura was a mere vassal of the Date. We defeated his clan during the coup. The others are still on the move.”

“Sadatsugu Maeda has already fallen,” Kuro offered. “And many others by Lord Genichiro’s hand.

“But the Maeda Clan has other vassals,” he continued, pointing to the map. “And there is still the Mogami Clan to consider.”

“We hardly have any allies. There aren’t much of the western clans left to fight. Tokugawa destroyed them at Sekigahara.”

Sekigahara was the battle where Tokugawa Ieyasu, with his Interior Ministry, began his campaign to take over Japan.

“We would need means beyond the strength of man,” Genichiro said. A shiver of reverence and caution passed over the congregation at the sound of his low voice.

“But what is there that we could use?”

Kuro kept his eyes trained on the map, trying not to let his sense of hopelessness overtake him. They did not have enough men to continue fighting. Genichiro had done what he could during the past few years, but Ashina’s forces steadily decreased. What else could they do?

There were so many things that went into war, resources upon resources. All of it seemed a waste. Lives endangered for the sake of old feuds and territories … 

“If all else fails, we ought to have a plan to evacuate the people,” he said, almost to himself.

“And go where?” Genichiro replied. “The west is weakening and the east preys on us.”

“Could we not go farther north?”

“I will not see this land abandoned,” Genichiro said in a voice like flint.

Kuro swallowed, though he held his ground under the general’s unwavering gaze. “Is it truly worth the lives of the people?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Divine Heir.”

 _I understand perfectly well,_ Kuro wanted to say. There were greater things at stake, if only the general would see that. But as these meetings progressed, it became more and more apparent to him that Genichiro did not.

Would he throw away his people’s lives so easily? Kuro thought of his people, lost in the Hirata Estate. He could not imagine sacrificing them for the sake of the land. 

After each meeting adjourned, Kuro left the council chamber at Genichiro’s side. It was his place as Genichiro’s future mate, after all. His duty.

The general’s scent clung to Kuro. He’d given up trying to wash it off after the first few days; there was no use since he’d be marked and mated with Genichiro by the year’s end. It shouldn’t be a problem, and yet …

Dread coiled in Kuro’s gut whenever he thought of it. It was during times like these when the war felt far off and the mating ceremony close by. Why was Kuro so worried, so fearful? He ought to be more frightened of the war with Tokugawa’s Ministry. How selfish was he that he’d give more thought to his ceremony with a noble general?

 _Very selfish,_ he thought with a pang of shame. _Forgive me, Uncle._

Every part of him trembled as his heat cycle approached. It was to be his first heat in Ashina Castle, and to think that Genichiro was in the same building …

A few days before the approximated time, Kuro found himself sequestered into his room with several of Ashina’s beta servants. Among them was Lady Emma, the physician. They helped to make him comfortable, and he allowed himself to surrender to their administrations. It would do them a disservice to resist, and even though they were not of Hirata, they were just as proficient.

“Where is Lord Genichiro?” Kuro asked on the night before. He lay upon his futon in his bedroom, dressed only in a yukata.

Emma waved a small incense burner around his bedroom; the smell helped to ease the aching heat that pooled in Kuro’s core.

“He is staying on the far side of the castle,” Emma replied. “His rut cycle begins a few days after yours, and so we thought it best to keep him away.”

Kuro felt a strain of relief, but doubts still nagged at him. What if they allowed Genichiro to enter his room? What if they let the ceremony take place earlier than agreed upon?

He knew he was worrying for nothing. Genichiro was an honourable man, wasn’t he? But still, Kuro feared.

“Emma,” he said, “would you step outside for a moment? I need to speak with my shinobi.”

Emma nodded and left the room. Wolf entered, taking up the space she’d left, but he did not slide the shoji closed.

When Kuro next inhaled, Wolf’s alpha scent took hold of him, and Kuro gasped at the reaction between his legs.

“My lord,” Wolf rasped, pressing himself into a corner of the room. Something gleamed in his eyes, and Kuro’s heart raced to see it.

 _Desire._ A primal need, a desperate want. Wolf’s fists clenched at his sides, and guilt stabbed at Kuro’s heart for putting his shinobi through this.

Wolf had lost his suppressant herbs at Hirata. He’d used up the last of his sense-dulling herbs. The only ones he had left was for the masking of his alpha’s scent.

Why was it, a small part of Kuro wondered, that he feared Genichiro on the other side of the castle, but not Wolf who stood only several feet from him?

He ought to be afraid of his alpha shinobi. But he was not.

“Wolf,” he breathed. “I need to ask something of you. Please.”

Wolf’s jaw clenched, and he said nothing, as though speaking would crack the walls of his control.

“Will you keep _them_ from entering my room?” Kuro asked. His shinobi knew whom he referred to. 

Wolf nodded stiffly, managing a grunt of acknowledgement.

“I am sorry,” Kuro whispered, quieter than a breath. “Go now, quickly.”

Wolf might have said something, but all he did was bow and leave the bedroom in a rush of movement.

Shortly after, Kuro’s new servants arrived to take up their positions at his side.

That night, his body burned in the flames of need.

* * *

There were three main windows in Lord Kuro’s room, all opening onto the rooftops outside. Wolf could traverse all the buildings of Ashina Castle, leaping from roof to roof, grappling from tree to tree, all the way to the tower lookout on top.

He’d done this after inspecting his lord’s new chambers. He needed to know the layout of the castle if he was to plan for evacuations and shortcuts. With Lord Kuro now in Ashina Castle, Genichiro placed him under the protection of the Nightjar Ninja, a type of shinobi with a different skill set to the Usui Clan’s. Wolf wrinkled his nose at them; they all smelled of betas, patrolling the rooftops in their feather-cloaks. He did not trust them to watch his lord well.

Nor was he pleased that his duty was now shared with others. Genichiro meant to usurp his position as Lord Kuro’s retainer, that much was clear. But Wolf wasn’t going to let him. Wolf was Lord Kuro’s shinobi until his lord said otherwise.

He knew that the vehemence of these thoughts were brought about by his lord’s heat. A wisp of Lord Kuro’s scent played over his clothes, and Wolf trembled as he breathed it in. _Oh gods …_ His cock _ached_ for relief, for release, swelling even at the memory of his lord’s full scent. In an effort to calm himself and his pounding heart, he took to the roof outside one of the windows and let the cool air brush over his face.

He considered taking himself in hand, but that would be a distraction, as much as he desperately needed it.

Needed his lord … 

_No,_ that was –

Wolf growled low in frustration, grinding his teeth together. He needed to focus!

Lord Kuro’s words came back to him amidst the haze of desire. _Will you keep_ them _from entering my room?_ Wolf knew he meant Genichiro. And his worry was Wolf’s own, as well.

 _I’m sorry,_ his lord had said, lying helpless on the futon.

Wolf’s chest twisted from inside. _You mustn’t blame yourself, my lord._ I _do not blame you._

He would not let _anybody_ enter Lord Kuro’s chambers while the latter pushed through his heat. _Least_ of all the general.

Wolf took up his guard by the window that led into Lord Kuro’s bedroom. The shutters were closed, but he’d have no trouble in breaking them down should there be an intruder from the other side. Lord Kuro’s heavy scent curled out through the gaps, but thankfully the cold air blew his lord’s scent away before Wolf could get a lungful.

And yet he wished … for just one more breath …

It was going to be a long week, but he would get through and see his lord at the end of it.

Whenever Lord Kuro moaned in the night, an answering whine remained locked in Wolf’s throat. He might as well strangle himself for all the relief it brought. His rut was in full swing, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

His father would’ve brought him a fresh supply of herbs before this. But Owl was dead now. Nor could Wolf go off to look for herbs without leaving his lord. And he was not going to do that again.

He stayed within the shadows, fingers twitching towards his crotch, but always held back. His cock engorged, his knot pulsed with heat, and it was all he could do to not roar in his frustration.

Lord Kuro’s short breaths touched his ears, light as a feather.

He imagined pressing his lips to his lord’s skin – he would be hot, his lord, and Wolf would open the window to let in some air …

He’d wipe the sweat from Lord Kuro’s face, caress his hair, trail kisses down his neck and onto his chest … Perhaps he’d feel his lord’s heartbeat under his lips …

Wolf sucked in a sharp breath. He could picture it so vividly in his mind, and it did nothing to ease his arousal. If anything, it made it worse.

Within the thick clouds above, thunder rolled with discontent.

* * *

Genichiro snarled.

His hand ached from stroking his cock for so long. He lay in the darkness of his room, deep into his rut, knowing full well that on the other side of the castle was his omega. In _heat,_ no less.

Isshin, damn him, had seen fit to relocate Genichiro for this reason. Genichiro couldn’t see the logic in it. Who cared if the year wasn’t yet over? The Ministry couldn’t give a damn. The Hirata Estate was razed to the ground, and her lord now resided in the castle. It only made sense that they mated _now._

And yet here he lay, spilling his seed over and over while his cock refused to ease. _Damn it._ Isshin knew full well what he was doing, leaving Genichiro to deal with this while his omega was so _close …_

His sweet omega. No doubt he was on a futon as well, flushed with heat, parting his legs in the hopes that the night air might cool him. Genichiro growled into the sheets of his futon, fingers digging into his enlarged knot. When they were finally together, he’d press his face between his omega’s toned thighs and lick the heat from his core. He’d listen to Kuro’s moans as he traced every inch of him with his tongue, and then he’d follow each kiss with the mark of his teeth …

Genichiro came violently, jerking on the futon as his seed spilled over once again. The servants would have a hell of a time cleaning up the mess, but he could care less about that now.

He imagined Kuro writhing in his grip as Genichiro used his hands. His cock. Every part of him, all in service to his omega’s pleasure.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, getting closer to Ashina Castle.

* * *

Wolf breathed a sigh of relief when his cycle finally ended.

He returned to his lord’s chamber. The servants were still in Lord Kuro’s bedroom; he could hear the shuffling of cloth as they cleaned and dressed Lord Kuro for the day.

When his lord finally emerged from the bedroom, Wolf knelt on one knee before him. All at once the thoughts from his rut came back to him. Wolf’s face burned with mortification. He’d entertained improper thoughts about his lord before, but _this_ – this was too much. Was he so low as to shame Lord Kuro with such impropriety?

 _Yes,_ a voice whispered in his head, taking on Lady Butterfly’s voice. _Yes, you are. Pathetic cub._

Wolf tried to fight it, but failed each time. And it was getting worse with each passing month. He could not look at his lord without an aching tug in his chest, warmth throbbing there, a longing for something … more. 

He wanted to move closer to his lord, to reach out and touch him. He wanted to see his lord’s smile and hear his praise.

But it was wrong of him to want that. He was nothing more than a mercenary shinobi, low as the dust. Who was he to desire the attention of his lord?

A land rested lightly upon his shoulder. “Stand up, Wolf.”

Wolf steeled himself and stood. Lord Kuro looked him over; a gleam of concern shone in his eyes, but he seemed satisfied with what he saw, and even offered a small smile. Wolf’s heart stuttered at the sight.

“How are you feeling, my lord?” he asked.

“The same as always,” Lord Kuro replied with a quiet chuckle. “A little dizzy, but it will soon pass.”

Wolf gave his lord a quick look-over. His porcelain face bore a healthy flush, and his eyes shone clear and alert.

Lord Kuro flushed under Wolf’s gaze. “Well then,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll check on Inosuke first, and then we’ll head out. A new day awaits us.”

Wolf hoped that this new day wouldn’t hold any unsavoury surprises.

A few days later, Genichiro emerged from his rut cycle, and with him an unsavoury surprise.

“Divine Heir. How would you like to continue learning the art of the bow?”

It took much of Wolf’s willpower not to growl right there and then. His lord had trained with the bow back in Hirata, but he was not yet a master at it.

Lord Kuro stared at Genichiro, startled. “Well … It wouldn’t hurt to improve my skill.”

Genichiro smiled, eyes roving over Lord Kuro’s face with a hungry gleam. “I will teach you myself.”

No, no, _no._ Wolf wanted to howl in protest, but he forced himself to remain silent. For Genichiro to train Lord Kuro would require physical closeness at times, and Wolf could hardly stand to imagine the general standing close to _his_ lord.

“I would be honoured,” Lord Kuro said politely. He was surely saying it out of propriety. It was ill-mannered to refuse such an offer from a distinguished noble, and especially from an alpha who was also to be his future mate.

But what if he truly cared for –

 _No._ Wolf was by now very familiar with his lord’s scent. If there was any attraction, he would’ve caught a change in the sakura aroma around Lord Kuro. 

Genichiro’s scent, on the other hand, was unabashedly spiked with approval, and not a small amount of pleasure. Wolf gritted his teeth as he followed his lord and the general to the training grounds.

“There is something else I want to discuss with you,” Genichiro continued as they went. “Your training.”

“What about it?” Lord Kuro asked. Wolf wished he could see his lord’s face; all he could see now was the back of his head and curve of his neck, dark hair tied up in a topknot.

“I will have sessions set up for you,” Genichiro said. “It is unwise to let one’s skill fade from lack of practice. The trainers here can teach you in the Ashina arts.”

Lord Kuro paused in his steps. “That … that is more than I deserve, Lord Genichiro.”

“I will decide that,” Genichiro said smoothly, “for my omega.”

Wolf suddenly understood. This was a gift. A _courting_ gift. He could barely breathe, and part of him knew this was an overreaction, but his alpha instincts overrode all of that. 

They made their way to the training grounds, which were reserved mostly for archery. The cold air blew around them, heralding the arrival of winter. A few clusters of samurai stood in the training grounds, sparring with each other or on their own, all dressed warmly.

Wolf melted into the shadows upon arriving at the grounds, keeping a close watch. Genichiro found a well-sized bow to fit Lord Kuro’s stature, and Lord Kuro proceeded to shoot at a target as best he could. His arrows struck true for the most part, though some went off trajectory, and not many of them hit dead-centre. Wolf knew this performance was for Genichiro to gauge his lord’s level and therefore train him from there. Wolf’s mouth twisted, wanting to twist into a scowl. Why must Genichiro teach him? Why not General Nobuharu, or any other for that matter?

“Your form is satisfactory,” Genichiro said, stepping closer to Lord Kuro and reaching up to adjust his pose. “Raise your arm a little more. Yes, good. And here –”

His hands rested on Lord Kuro’s waist, and Wolf’s vision tinted red.

“Good,” Genichiro repeated. “Now, try again.”

Lord Kuro loosed another arrow. It hit closer to the centre mark, but not quite.

“You are too stiff,” Genichiro murmured. “Try to relax.”

Lord Kuro hesitated before drawing his bow. “I must admit that your presence is making me nervous, Lord Genichiro.”

Wolf narrowed his eyes. Surely that was a hint for Genichiro to step away, but to his incredulity, the general only smiled.

“Then this is a good time to practice,” he said. “We will stand like this once we are mated, after all.”

Wolf seethed inside. The _arrogance_ of the man!

“Now, try again.”

Lord Kuro drew back the arrow, aiming at the target. Genichiro felt his bow arm, his posture, making adjustments here and there. Wolf followed the path of the general’s hands without a break.

Then he frowned, peering closer. Genichiro’s hands were blackened, as though they’d been severely burned years before. Wolf couldn’t tell how far up the arm they went, given that they were hidden by the sleeves of Genichiro’s haori. But the cause of the injury must have been powerful if the burns could last this long.

Wolf felt a sense of grim satisfaction at the thought.

One of the blackened hands left Lord Kuro’s shoulder and touched his chin, tilting his head up ever so slightly.

Wolf went rigid. Genichiro’s hand was large enough to circle around his lord’s throat. His fingers brushed against Lord Kuro’s jaw.

Another step closer, and his chest would press against Lord Kuro’s back.

His lord loosed the arrow. It hit the target dead centre.

Genichiro’s lips curled. He all but purred into Lord Kuro’s ear. “Very good, Divine Heir.”

 _He is not yours,_ Wolf thought, though he didn’t know if it was for the general or himself. But it was obvious, wasn’t it? Wolf had no right to Lord Kuro. 

He was fighting a losing battle, mostly one from within. He couldn’t control his thoughts, nor did he think he wanted to. They ran from him, following the sakura scent to his lord, longing for more than he could ever hope to have.

As for the battle without … Wolf had already lost. As much as he wanted to fight it, he was bound to be released from his lord’s service very soon. He could only watch helplessly, trying to keep himself from leaping forward, as Genichiro encircled Lord Kuro, engulfed him, and hid him from sight.

He must leave them alone. Nothing good would come of his desires, and he’d undoubtedly hurt his lord in the process. 

It was too much to bear.

There was a garden in one of the larger courtyards of Ashina Castle. A pond empty of fish was situated there, its bank overgrown with reeds. Wolf gathered a few thin reeds when nobody was looking, then followed after Genichiro and Lord Kuro. Neither of them noticed him.

Genichiro he could care less about, but it was different with his lord. Something twisted in Wolf’s gut at the thought of not having his lord’s gaze on him. Of being invisible. 

There was nothing he could do about it, and it … hurt. 

He didn’t know why he took the reeds. His thoughts went back to the Hirata Estate, carving out a whistle and playing a few notes for Lord Kuro. He remembered his lord’s face, bright in the morning sunlight, brown eyes aglow with warmth.

But he’d already given his lord a reed whistle. What use was there in giving him another? Wolf didn’t know if Lord Kuro lost the first whistle in the estates. And even if he’d known, something about giving the same gift twice didn’t sound right.

Was there truly nothing he could think of?

A bird chirped in the distance, somewhere above the castle. Wolf only half-listened to it; Genichiro was standing close to Lord Kuro again.

* * *

Lightning flashed in Kuro’s dream, illuminating Genichiro’s face for a brief moment before all went dark again.

Then he felt the weight of the general’s body over his own.

Kuro fought until he was exhausted. He wanted to give up. He wanted to turn his face away. His clan was gone, his people, his home. What use was there to keep fighting?

Genichiro’s hands slithered over Kuro’s chest, around his waist, between his thighs. “Divine Heir,” he growled low in Kuro’s ear. “You are mine. Your blood is my own.”

A jolt went through Kuro at that. _Never,_ he wanted to shout, and the fighting began again.

When was it going to end? Would it ever?

Lightning flashed overhead once again, but instead of a resounding rumble, it came with the chirp of a bird.

And the sky of darkness cracked open, letting in the light.

Kuro’s eyes flew open, and he gasped, sitting bolt upright.

Early morning sunlight streamed through his window; he’d left the shutters partly open, knowing that Wolf was outside on the roof.

 _Just a dream,_ he thought to himself. _Another bad dream, nothing more._ But his heart refused to calm.

He sat there for a moment, rubbing his chest. The dreams had gotten worse ever since arriving at the castle. He hated it, hated dreaming of Genichiro in such a way. It didn’t help that the end of the year was nearly upon him, nor the fact that Genichiro took every opportunity he could to establish some sort of physical contact.

The bow lessons … Kuro shivered. He didn’t want to think of those now. It was still morning, and a beautiful day from what he could see. The sky was not too overcast, and a bird chirped somewhere nearby …

Kuro blinked, straining his ears. That was not a bird. It was too … melodic. And not as repetitive.

He stood up and went over to the window, pulling back the shutters fully. He could hear it better now, and something about it was rather familiar. Was that a flute?

Or a whistle?

“Wolf?” Kuro called softly, heart racing once again. But it was not from his dream this time.

His shinobi appeared on the other side of the window. Kuro glanced at his hand, and sure enough, there was a reed whistle held between his fingers.

“Yes, my lord?” Wolf said.

“Where did you get that?” Kuro asked, nodding to the whistle though he already knew the answer.

“I carved it this morning,” his shinobi replied.

“I thought I heard a bird,” Kuro said, a smile forming on his face. “Was it you?”

Wolf inclined his head. “I was testing it out, but I did not want to disturb you like before.”

“You were playing a song, weren’t you?”

“Bird calls, my lord. I am not good at music.”

“You play beautifully,” Kuro said, his voice softening.

Wolf glanced up at him, his gaze intense as he searched Kuro’s face. Being under Wolf’s gaze sent a rush of warmth throughout Kuro’s body.

For a moment, the world stood still, catching them in the morning’s golden glow. The sunlight cast Wolf’s face into relief, accentuating the sculpted shape of his cheekbone and jaw …

Kuro blinked, face flushing with embarrassment. Even after eight years, he was still not used to Wolf’s handsome features.

The moment passed in a heartbeat. Kuro heard his servants’ shuffling feet in the main room. “Wolf,” he said quickly, keeping his voice hushed. “There is something I want to speak with you about, a little later.”

Wolf appeared surprised, but nodded.

Once Kuro was dressed for the day, he went into the adjoining bedroom to check on Inosuke and Lady Nogami. He’d ensured that they were well-cared for, even taken out for walks in fresh air, but despite all his efforts, Inosuke grew weaker by the day. 

“How do you feel?” Kuro whispered.

“I am alright, my lord,” Inosuke rasped, lying on the futon with a fresh wrap of bandages over his eyes. “Don’t worry about me.”

Kuro rested his hand on Inosuke’s shoulder, blinking back the sting in his eyes. “Alright,” he whispered. “I’ll be back later to see you.”

“Yes, hurry back, my son,” Lady Nogami said gaily.

Kuro hadn’t the heart to correct her. He’d tried before, but Inosuke eventually told him that there was no use. His mother’s mind was addled, no doubt from her experience during the attack. She saw everybody as her young son.

As Kuro left the bedroom, a wave of grief overtook him, and he stood still for a moment as he tried to regain his composure. To lose them would mean losing more of his connection to the Hirata Estate. They were his thread, his ties. Nobuharu as well, and Wolf.

He did not want them to go. He did not want to be left alone.

_Uncle, lend me strength. Please._

When he looked up again, he found Wolf standing before him. The sight of his shinobi was like a burst of strength in Kuro’s veins despite the weight upon his heart. 

There were some things he couldn’t fix, but he would do what must be done. It was the least he could promise the last of his people.

That evening, after another war meeting and training session with Genichiro, Kuro sat on his futon. He rubbed absentmindedly at the side of his neck.

Genichiro had touched him again. He could still feel the general’s fingers against the edge of his jaw, and it made his stomach tighten uncomfortably. But he couldn’t just _tell_ Genichiro to refrain from such contact. He was his future mate, and omegas were expected to obey their alphas as a wife obeys her husband.

Kuro sighed. No matter how many times he told himself not to bother about it, he still dwelled on it all. This marriage … It wasn’t what he wanted. He’d known that for a while, deep inside, yet he’d refused to confront it back then. But now …

If he could choose, he’d stay with his shinobi. The thought made him blush furiously, but it was true. He felt strongly for Wolf, and not just because of his shinobi’s alpha-ness.

It had been a gradual thing, now that Kuro thought about it. His youthful admiration of Wolf – which he still carried today – blossoming into something more as he grew older. Oh, but it was all so difficult to explain, even to himself!

And that reminded him: he still needed to speak with Wolf.

“My lord?” Wolf spoke softly, from a corner of the bedroom. “May I say something?”

“Of course,” Kuro said, not without some surprise. But it was welcome; after all, he could lead into his own topic after Wolf’s. “What is it?”

His shinobi stepped into the moonlight and knelt by the futon, lowering his head. “There is something on my mind,” he began. “It is only a suggestion, and if you don’t want it, then I will not speak of it any further.”

Kuro’s interest piqued. “What is it, Wolf?”

A slight tinge of red appeared on his shinobi’s face. “We have settled in by now, and I wondered if you’d prefer to continue our –”

“Our lessons?” Kuro said at nearly the same time, his heart leaping into a frenzy. “Wolf, that – that is what I wanted to speak to you about! I very much want to continue.”

Wolf looked up at him, startled, but with a brightness in his eyes. 

“But are you sure of this?” Kuro asked carefully. “It's all unfamiliar terrain, and the Nightjar patrol the rooftops.”

“Which makes it excellent ground to practice on,” Wolf said, a note of eagerness in his tone. “One can never know what type of terrain they will come across. It is good to try different areas so that you can hone your movement and quick thinking.”

Kuro nodded. “Yes. I understand. When can we start? Tonight? I don’t have the proper clothes or gear with me …”

Was that a little smile on his shinobi’s face? “I have them with me, my lord.” And he held out a grappling hook, the one that Kuro practiced with at Hirata. There was use in keeping a spare, Wolf pointed out.

Kuro hastily changed into a simple kimono and followed Wolf through the window. His bare feet landed on the roof’s cold tiles, but he hardly felt the bite of winter for the thrill that went through him.

Ashina’s lands stretched out before him in the night, He couldn’t see much detail; clouds partly covered the moon overhead. And even if it wasn’t, he doubted he’d be able to see much.

“This way, my lord,” Wolf murmured.

Kuro’s excitement built as he followed his shinobi across the rooftops. The ground was a long way down, making his stomach clench whenever he looked. He focused on keeping his balance as Wolf had taught, crouching low to lower the likelihood of being seen.

As they both expected, the Nightjar were on patrol. It seemed that Wolf was already familiar with their paths, for he led Kuro in a weave around the buildings, leaping onto and down from rooftops.

Kuro wanted to laugh in exhilaration, basking in this sense of freedom. It would be over by tomorrow, and he’d be back to work in the castle, but for now he was here with his shinobi.

They eventually returned to the tower lookout at the top of the castle. Kuro breathed heavily from the exertion, but he felt better than he had in days.

Wolf came over to his side. “Very good, my lord,” he said, eyes glowing yellow in the darkness.

Kuro beamed. Hearing those words from Wolf felt different than when Genichiro said them. Prouder, and … gentler. An odd choice of words, perhaps, given that Wolf outwardly radiated stoicism more than anything else. Kuro managed to hide his smile.

A light caught his attention beyond the lookout. The clouds parted to reveal the moon, hovering over Wolf’s head. Kuro stared at the sight, transfixed.

Was this a sign from the gods? 

If so, he’d gladly take it.

No matter what happened – his mating with Genichiro, becoming part of the Ashina Clan – Kuro would always love Wolf and keep that love safe in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A more exciting chapter for you guys, AND with a war meeting that includes real-life events loll I'm still practicing my war-meeting skills XD  
> I know y'all are likely waiting for all the steamy stuffs, and that'll come in a few chapters, I promise!!  
> In the meantime, you'll have to watch those three suffer a bit on their own hehehehh
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! <3


	11. Territorial

Lord Kuro’s lessons with Wolf continued over the week. The roofs of Ashina Castle took some getting used to, but his lord was determined to master it. The trouble was managing the differing heights of the rooftops – they were more drastic here than at the Hirata Estate, which meant the increased use of the grappling hook. Wolf grew concerned that Lord Kuro’s arms ached more than he let on.

“Don’t worry, Wolf,” his lord said, smiling. “It’s all worth it.”

It was indeed. Knowing that Lord Kuro was growing stronger (as strong as an omega could be, at least) was a comfort to Wolf. Any sort of training dealt out aches and bruises, but even then, Wolf wished he could take his lord’s pains onto himself.

There were greater pains in the world than simple training injuries, after all.

“Lord Kuro,” Emma the physician said urgently, hurrying up to his side as he left the council chamber. “It is your retainer. He’s …”

Lord Kuro paled, and Wolf had to hurry to keep up with them. Upon reaching their destination, his lord rushed to Inosuke’s bedchamber and slipped inside, followed closely by Emma.

Wolf waited outside. His sharp ears caught their low voices through the shoji.

“Lady Nogami!” his lord gasped. “What happened?”

“She passed before I could do anything. I am sorry, my lord.”

A shuffling of cloth. “Inosuke?” Lord Kuro said, his breath trembling. “Can you hear me?”

Low wheezing. “My lord … Young master …”

“I am here, Inosuke.”

“F-forgive me … I was too weak to …”

“No, Inosuke. There is nothing to forgive. You did your duty, and I am proud of you.”

Inosuke released a slow sigh. “I … live to serve …”

“Rest now,” Lord Kuro whispered.

A final exhale, and then silence.

There was another rustle of cloth. Wolf imagined his lord and Emma pulling sheets over the bodies.

“Lord Kuro,” Emma began, her voice soft.

“I will speak to Lord Genichiro about the burials,” his lord replied tonelessly.

Wolf stepped back as the shoji slid open. Lord Kuro stepped through, hands trembling and eyes glazed over. He did not seem to notice Wolf at first. When he finally did, something shifted behind his blank gaze, and Wolf immediately stepped forward.

But what was he to do now? How could he comfort his lord?

His first instinct was to draw Lord Kuro into his arms and hold him close, but he mustn’t do that. It wasn’t proper, no matter how much he wanted to do so. Nor did he know if it would be welcome.

So he settled for words instead. “My lord? What can I do?”

Lord Kuro’s lips pressed in a thin line. His gaze intensified until Wolf couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. “Walk with me,” he said, quieter than a breath.

Wolf bowed his head. “Yes, my lord.”

The funerals were a quiet affair, with the bodies laid on pyres and set aflame. Lord Kuro did not weep, but Wolf didn’t miss the tears glistening in his eyes.

Afterward, those who had been present during the funeral offered Lord Kuro their condolences, Isshin and Genichiro included. Wolf was satisfied to see the general keeping a respectful space between him and Lord Kuro. Another five feet of distance would’ve been preferable, but it was better than nothing.

At the end of the day, in the privacy of his lord’s room, Wolf said, “I am sorry.”

“There’s no need to be,” Lord Kuro replied. His voice softened. “I only wish …”

He trailed off, then shook his head. “Nevermind. Shall we continue the lessons?”

Wolf blinked, startled. “Are you sure, my lord?”

“Yes. Inosuke – he’d want me to continue my work.”

Wolf didn’t doubt it was true. It was what any retainer would want for their lord. Well-being and success, and satisfaction. 

Wolf wanted the same for Lord Kuro. As much as he longed for his lord, he couldn’t drag him down. It was Lord Kuro’s duty to become Genichiro’s mate and serve Ashina. He would be well-protected throughout it all.

Wolf’s duty was to guard his lord, and he’d come this far. He was bound to be relieved by Genichiro soon. As much as it pained him to think of leaving, he’d do anything for his lord’s safety.

Wolf would never stop caring, even if he moved across the sea. He knew, deep within himself, that he’d never stop longing for Lord Kuro.

He held that thought close as he led his lord out onto the rooftops.

Lord Kuro appeared glad for the distraction that the lesson provided. He leapt gracefully through the air, blended into the shadows, and moved without a sound. The alpha in Wolf rumbled with pride to see his lord doing so well.

When they eventually returned to Lord Kuro’s room, his lord brought out a small package. A familiar aroma passed under Wolf’s nose.

“This is for you,” Lord Kuro said. “I had some time on my hands yesterday, and I’m allowed to use the kitchens, so …”

Wolf took the wrapped rice ball with a bow. “Thank you, my lord.”

Lord Kuro laid his hand on Wolf’s shoulder. “Thank _you,_ Wolf. For being here with me.”

“I will always be here for you,” Wolf murmured.

The words twisted in his heart. He wouldn’t be here for much longer after the mating ceremony – unless he’d seriously miscalculated Genichiro’s character. But he needed to say them. Even if his lord heard it already, a deep part of Wolf needed him to _know._

_I will come to you if you call. I will stand by you for as long as you need me. I am yours._

Lord Kuro smiled. For a moment, Wolf saw a gleam in his eyes, one of understanding.

They soon parted ways, Lord Kuro to his bedroom and Wolf to his station on the roof. He ate the rice ball with relish, savouring the sweetness, basking in the warmth that spread through him.

His reed whistle rested in the folds of his innermost clothing. Come dawn, he’d play a new song for his lord.

* * *

The war meetings turned out to be more informative in ways that Kuro hadn’t expected. How else would he have known of Genichiro’s passion to save Ashina? By _any_ means necessary? The way he spoke of the land … It was as though Ashina was a revered being, a god. Someone to be adored, feared, and loved. It was a side of Genichiro that Kuro hadn’t seen in Hirata.

Kuro loved the land, but his people came first. Knowing that Genichiro gave them less thought than Ashina made his gut twist. How could he be with someone who cared little for the lives under his lordship? 

Then again, Genichiro did care, but only in that they provided manpower. They served as samurai to protect Ashina, tilled the earth to provide food for Ashina’s protectors, healed wounds so that Ashina’s men could keep fighting for Ashina.

He had little time to think of the people as those who should be kept safe. No, Ashina came first.

Genichiro had his retainers. Did he care for them as deeply as Kuro did for Wolf, or even Inosuke? If Gyoubu was killed, Genichiro would surely be upset.

But would it stem from the loss of a close friend or the loss of a mighty soldier? Or both?

Kuro sighed heavily. Was it wrong for him to think of the people before the land? Genichiro and his advisors certainly thought so, though many of them didn’t say it aloud. If you had no land, you had no home for the people. 

_But if we stay here,_ Kuro thought, _we will die with the land. All of us._

He tried not to think of the Dragon’s Heritage.

“This is a fine night, is it not, Divine Heir?”

“Yes, Lord Genichiro.”

They strolled through one of Ashina Castle’s ornamental gardens. It hadn’t yet snowed, but the air was getting chillier, and the gardens were bare of greenery. The moon rose high in the night, partly covered by clouds.

Genichiro had invited him on a little evening outing. Kuro couldn’t refuse, even though part of him wanted to.

He could feel the general’s eyes on him. “Did you know,” Genichiro said, “that the previous Divine Heir once lived here?”

Kuro turned to him in surprise. He hadn’t expected that. “No, I did not. There was another?”

“Lord Takeru. He came here from a distant land with his guardian.”

 _Takeru._ How had Kuro not known that name before?

Genichiro’s gaze grew distant as he glanced around the garden. “He’d come through here and sit by the pond, playing his flute.”

As he spoke, his scent picked up, taking on a … desiring note. Kuro kept his face neutral, but he couldn’t help but wonder. What had passed between Genichiro and the previous Divine Heir? Was it something he ought to know?

Genichiro refocused on Kuro, and chuckled. “Ah, I’ve bored you with my memories.”

“Not at all!” Kuro said, keeping his tone politely interested. “I find myself curious. Another Divine Heir … I never would’ve thought.”

Genichiro reached up to brush a strand of hair from Kuro’s face. Kuro managed not to shiver as the general’s blackened thumb slid along his jawline.

“He was very much like you,” Genichiro mused, almost to himself.

“An omega?” Kuro asked, though part of him suspected it was more than that.

“Yes, that is so.”

Kuro could imagine what kind of commotion _that_ would’ve caused. “Did he have a family?”

“No,” Genichiro replied, “but he was already promised to someone before he arrived.”

His scent shifted a little, taking on a tangy note that Kuro instinctively wanted to step back from. _Displeasure._

Kuro admittedly felt some smug satisfaction at that. Who had become Takeru’s mate that the general would feel put out?

“He also shared your gift,” Genichiro said, voice lowering.

All of Kuro’s thoughts flew to the side, leaving him painfully aware of the closeness between him and Genichiro. “What do you mean?” he asked, heart pounding against his ribs.

“The Dragon’s Heritage,” Genichiro said softly, and Kuro’s pulse quickened further. “Did you think I didn’t know of it?”

“I – It was meant to be a secret,” Kuro said, stumbling over his tongue. “My uncle thought –”

“Yes, I know what your uncle thought.” Genichiro’s eyes bored into Kuro’s. “I know what your blood can offer.”

“Who told you?” Kuro demanded.

“My grandfather.”

Kuro said nothing. If he spoke, his voice might crack, betraying the fear that froze in his chest.

_Isshin … why? My uncle trusted you._

“You are concerned, Divine Heir?” Genichiro asked, one brow arched in an amused fashion. “Don’t you trust me?”

How was he to answer _that?_

“I do,” Kuro said carefully. “It is my Heritage that I don’t trust.”

“Curious. It is an unfailing gift, I hear.”

“It is a cause for danger,” Kuro murmured, turning his gaze away to the gardens. How he would love to be in his room at this moment, anywhere but with the general …

“I hope you will forgive me for thinking otherwise,” Genichiro said, and Kuro glanced back at him. A strange light shone in his dark eyes. “This is a perilous time, Divine Heir. Men are dying, homes are lost.”

 _No, not this._ “We still have an army.” Kuro stayed still lest he succumb to his weakness and _run._

_Do not fear. Wolf is with you. Uncle watches over you._

“A dwindling army,” Genichiro pointed out. “You know this, Divine Heir. Tokugawa pushes further into Ashina. He will soon have his blade at our throats.”

Kuro held his gaze. “What do you want from me?”

Genichiro appraised him for what felt like an eternity. Kuro’s palms grew slick with sweat, and he wondered if the general was playing with him.

Then he spoke. “I ask for your blood, Divine Heir. Swear me into your immortal oath.”

Kuro drew in a slow breath. He wasn’t fully surprised, not really. He couldn’t be. After all the time he’d spent with Genichiro – hearing the passion in his voice, seeing the crazed light in his eyes – it only made sense that he would want this.

“I cannot,” Kuro said softly.

Genichiro’s face hardened. “I must ask you to reconsider. You have the power to save Ashina, and all those within it. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Of course,” Kuro said. “But not through my Heritage.” _I do not trust it._

Nor could he give it to Genichiro even if he agreed with the general. The Heritage could only be given to one, and Wolf was already his oathbound.

But Genichiro didn’t need to know that.

The general stepped forward. Kuro instinctively moved back, but Genichiro still towered over him. “You are to be my mate,” he said in a low voice. “Already it is my duty to protect you, but I won’t be able to for long. Not if you don’t give me your blood.”

For a split second, Kuro remembered his nightmares. _You are mine. Your blood is my own._ It was coming true before his very eyes.

He wanted to scream, run, wake up. He wanted to be back in the Hirata Estate, surrounded by familiar walls. He wanted Lord Morimasa, his dear uncle, standing with him.

He wanted Wolf at his side most of all.

“You are making a mistake, Divine Heir,” Genichiro said, his voice lined with a growl.

Kuro squared his shoulders. _Be brave._ “Forgive me, Lord Genichiro. But I will not give you my blood. I must beg your pardon now; I have lingered too long.”

He turned to leave, yet a strong hand clamped around his arm, pulling him back around. He gasped as Genichiro pressed him close.

The general’s eyes blazed. “I haven’t finished with you, Divine Heir.”

Kuro’s arm ached from Genichiro’s hold. He tried to pull away, but the grip around him was like iron. “Let me go. Please, my lord –”

There was a shift in the air. Kuro couldn’t remember _how_ it happened, only that it passed by so fast that it remained a blur in his mind.

One moment he was chest to chest with Genichiro, and in the next he was free from his hold. Wolf stood before him, facing Genichiro who was now only several feet away.

There was movement around them. Kuro’s heart leapt in his throat as Genichiro’s retainers left the shadows, Gyoubu among them.

Genichiro looked at Wolf as one might look at refuse on the ground. “You forget your place, shinobi.”

“You will not mishandle my lord,” Wolf said, nearly in a growl, and Kuro could tell that his hackles were eager to rise.

“Mishandle? I did no such thing. I would never harm my mate.” 

Genichiro took a step forward, but Wolf didn’t move. Kuro couldn’t see Wolf’s face, but he caught his shinobi’s scent, thickening around him in response to the other alpha’s presence. But there was also another note to it.

 _Protectiveness._ Kuro’s instincts stirred in response, either wanting to calm his shinobi or support him, he didn’t know … 

And then Kuro froze.

_The herbs!_

Genichiro breathed in, and everything slowed around them. Kuro saw it all in painful clarity – how Genichiro’s eyes widened in realization, how he drew his katana with all the speed and grace of lightning, and Wolf raising Kusabimaru in defence –

“Alpha!” Genichiro snarled.

And then they were caught in a duel. Kuro could hardly keep up with them; they moved with an alpha’s swift speed, attacked each other with an alpha’s great strength, and then – 

Wolf stumbled under the force of Genichiro’s attack, and Genichiro sliced at Wolf’s left arm above the elbow.

Kuro couldn’t even scream. His shinobi’s arm fell out of sight. Wolf remained standing, holding his bleeding left arm, seething.

 _“Take him!”_ Genichiro barked.

His retainers were on them before Kuro could even think to react. They knocked Wolf onto the ground, trapping him under Gyoubu’s strength. He snarled and writhed, but couldn’t free himself.

“No!” Kuro cried, but instead of running to Wolf, where all the retainers grouped, he hurried to the general’s side.

“Lord Genichiro,” he breathed. “Let me explain.”

Genichiro gazed down at him, breathing heavily from the fight. His face burned with a fury that boiled near the surface. “There is nothing to explain. You were with another alpha this whole time. _Eight years,_ if I remember correctly.”

He was right. How was Kuro to make an excuse for this? Only betas could become servants. Any other was against the law.

_The herbs wore out. How did I not notice before?_

“Who else knew of this?” Genichiro snarled. “Your retainers? Morimasa? The whole of Hirata?”

“No!”

“What of Nobuharu?”

“None of them knew. It was my fault, my lord! Whatever you do, let me take the punishment.”

“My lord!” Wolf protested. “Don’t do this.”

Kuro glanced back at him anxiously; his shinobi was pressed down under many of Genichiro’s present retainers, unable to move. Blood seeped from his severed arm onto the ground.

Genichiro grabbed Kuro’s upper arm again, drawing Kuro’s attention back and pulling him close. “You will suffer the consequences for this,” he hissed. “I cannot protect you from Ashina’s ancient laws.”

“I will take it,” Kuro said firmly, trying to keep his hands from trembling. “All of it.”

 _“No!”_ He heard the sound of Wolf struggling, and then the meaty smack of flesh against flesh. Kuro drew in a shaking breath, using all his willpower not to run to his shinobi. _Please, Wolf, let me do this._

Genichiro gazed long and hard at him. Then he drew Kuro closer and pressed his nose against Kuro’s neck. Kuro went still, hardly daring to breathe as Genichiro inhaled deeply. The general’s dark hair tickled his face, rough and lank.

When Genichiro finally withdrew, his pupils were blown wide. “You are unmarked,” he murmured. “Good.”

Looking up at his retainers over Kuro’s head, he said, “Take him away and deal with him.”

“No, don’t!” Kuro cried, even as Gyoubu drew Wolf up. They’d gagged his shinobi and tied his remaining arm behind his back. Wolf struggled viciously, but Gyoubu raised his fist and brought it down on Wolf’s head.

Wolf sagged and went limp.

 _“Wolf!”_ Against his better judgement, Kuro tried to pull out of Genichiro’s hold, to no avail. His omega’s strength was no match for an alpha.

“It seems that some of his influence still taints you,” Genichiro growled. “We will speak of this later, Divine Heir. And I will see to your general as well.”

“Please, my lord, don’t kill them,” Kuro pleaded. “They are all I have of my home!”

Even if Wolf was now immortal, he could still be hurt, even tortured. And Nobuharu … 

“I have no reason to listen to your words,” Genichiro snapped. “Not when you’ve deceived me all these years.”

“Didn’t you say that it’s your duty to protect me?” Kuro argued desperately. “They are my people, part of _me!_ Please, for my well-being, don’t kill them!”

“Beg all you like, Divine Heir,” Genichiro sneered. “But I will protect you as I see fit. I cannot have traitors standing near my mate.”

Kuro stared at the general in horror, then glanced back at Wolf. The retainers were already halfway to the end of the gardens. Once they rounded the corner, they’d be out of sight.

“Naomori,” Genichiro ordered. “Take the Divine Heir to his quarters.”

One of the remaining retainers took hold of Kuro and proceeded to lead him away. Kuro fought, trying to free himself. Mingled desperation and anger churned in his gut. He couldn’t go like this. He must do something!

“Lord Genichiro –” he shouted, before something hard fell on his head and all went black.

* * *

Gyoubu and his men were near Ashina’s outskirts when the shinobi awoke.

That was surprising. Gyoubu had hit him hard enough to put an alpha out for days. A beta wouldn’t survive it at all.

Not to mention he was still bleeding from his arm.

As intriguing as it was, the shinobi was a burden for Lord Genichiro. A traitor. A threat to Lord Kuro, soon to be Ashina’s omega. That was all Gyoubu needed to know.

The shinobi put up a vicious struggle, growling around the gag, straining against his bonds. Such good strength. He’d make a fine samurai in Gyoubu’s forces, but it seemed the gods were not so lenient with this one.

With the help of his men, Gyoubu pinned the shinobi down and drew his katana. He wasted no time in driving the blade through the shinobi’s back, straight into his heart, effectively stopping it.

The shinobi went still.

Satisfied, Gyoubu stood up. “Toss him over,” he ordered.

They threw the shinobi down into a ditch. Gyoubu heard the heavy thud of collision, and was satisfied. For now.

Lord Genichiro still had many burdens to deal with.

“This was his katana, my lord,” one of his men said, holding up a blade and its black scabbard.

Gyoubu took it. The blade was a fine one, sharp and bright under the moonlight. He sheathed it. “I will give it to Lord Genichiro.”

With that, Gyoubu and his men departed from the outskirts, making their way to the castle.

He caught a faint scent of sakura along the way, but perhaps it was only his eagerness to see the passing of winter and arrival of spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp ... stuff happened ^^; And Kuro you better have something good to tell Genichiro in the next chapter lmao  
> Also, we're getting closer to the game's canon events! Thanks guys for sticking with me this far!!
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated <3


	12. Lightning Atop the Castle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So first off, you will have noticed that this chapter is SUPER long ^^; At first I was thinking of splitting it in two, but then I was like, nahh I've made you guys wait this long! So imma let you guys sit back and enjoy this lengthy chapter hehehh  
> I've also put a line break where the chapter would've been split, just in case XDD

Kuro awoke to find himself lying in his bedroom.

He blinked slowly to clear his vision, recognizing the walls, the ceiling, the edge of the shoji. Light streamed in from somewhere – the window.

This wasn’t right … Surely it was evening. How was it daytime already? How did he get here? 

“Lord Kuro?”

He knew that voice. Kuro turned his head to see a familiar woman sitting next to him. Emma, the physician.

“It’s alright,” she said gently. “How do you feel?”

“My head hurts,” Kuro murmured. “Somebody … hit me.”

“It was one of Lord Genichiro’s retainers.” A flash of _something_ passed through Emma’s eyes. Disapproval? Irritation? Kuro couldn’t be sure, not when his vision continued to blur in and out.

He pushed himself up, wincing as a wave of dizziness rushed over him. Gods, how his head pounded! He reached up to touch the tender spot on the back.

“Take it easy, Lord Kuro,” Emma said sternly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Here, drink this.”

She held out a cup that smelled distinctly of herbs. Kuro took it and drank; the herbal scent helped to clear his mind considerably. “Thank you, Lady Emma. How long have I been asleep?”

“For the whole night,” Emma replied. “The blow was not severe.”

Kuro wasn’t reassured by that. None of Genichiro’s men would hurt him terribly, not unless Genichiro himself allowed it …

The memory of that evening rushed back to him, and his chest burned with anger. “Where is Lord Genichiro?”

“He is with his advisors,” Emma said. “He is holding your general under house arrest.”

“Nobuharu?” Kuro asked quickly. “Do you know if he’s alright?”

Emma bowed her head. “I could not tell. I’m sorry, Lord Kuro.”

Kuro exhaled slowly. Nobuharu must still be alive, but what had Genichiro done to him? 

And Wolf … 

A surge of energy went through Kuro’s limbs, and he stumbled to his feet. For a moment the ground tilted, but he breathed deep and slow, and managed to reach the shoji.

“Lord Kuro!” Emma protested, following after him. “Where are you going?”

“I must see him,” Kuro said through gritted teeth. He entered the main room and made his way to the front shoji, thinking to at least give the general a piece of his mind.

The image of Wolf’s arm, bleeding onto the ground, was seared in his mind’s eye. Kuro’s hand trembled as he slid the shoji open.

He found two guards posted outside.

“My lord,” one of them said. “You’re not allowed to leave your room.”

“Did Lord Genichiro order that?” Kuro demanded.

They nodded. For one haze-filled moment, Kuro considered brushing past them, perhaps fighting them if they attacked, but he restrained himself. There must be another way around them.

He slid the shoji shut. There _were_ other ways. He just needed to buy his time.

Turning to face Emma, he said, “I must see Lord Genichiro. Will you tell him?”

Worry shone in her eyes, but she sighed and nodded. “I will.”

Fifteen minutes later, Genichiro arrived. “Divine Heir. I heard you were awake.”

Kuro faced the general, heart pounding against his ribs in a mad drumbeat. A mixture of apprehension and anger twisted in his chest, solidifying into a block of lead.

_I am my uncle’s nephew. I am Hirata’s lord._

Yet Hirata was still only a vassal to Ashina.

“I wanted to speak with you,” Kuro said calmly.

“I’m sure you do.” Genichiro came forward. He wore a grey-blue shitagi, revealing his blackened hands and arms. No katana hung at his hip. Seeing him without his armour sent a shiver down Kuro’s spine; Genichiro was tall and broad-chested, and strong. He exuded strength all over, from his posture to his heavy scent. 

Kuro tried not to breathe in too much of his smell.

“General Nobuharu,” he began. “What have you done with him?”

“I am keeping him in a safe place,” Genichiro replied, almost impassively.

“Can I see him?”

“Not just yet. I haven’t finished questioning him. No, I haven’t hurt him, if that’s what you think.”

Kuro frowned slightly. Was that the truth? He couldn’t be sure. Who knew what Genichiro would reveal and withhold?

“And what of me?” Kuro asked. “Will you have me cast out by Ashina’s laws? Executed?” Part of him knew that none of this was possible with his Dragon’s Heritage, and that Genichiro was likely aware of this. But how was he to predict the general’s move now after all that had happened?

“I have decided to make … an allowance,” Genichiro replied.

Kuro narrowed his eyes. “You said you couldn’t protect me from the law.”

“I will admit that I spoke in anger. In a time of peace I wouldn’t be able to protect you. However, considering the circumstances we face, my advisors are willing to lessen your punishment. You will be kept here in solitude until our ceremony.”

Kuro wanted to scowl, but kept his face wiped of emotion.

The general smiled humorlessly. “Do you doubt me, Divine Heir?”

“If I do, it is with good reason,” Kuro said.

“Because I followed the laws of the land?” A look of disgust passed over Genichiro’s face. “By all means, I have every reason to doubt _you._ Your loyalty, your trust. You allowed an alpha into your service and told no one.”

“The time was not right to send him away,” Kuro argued, his clenched fists trembling. “The last thing my clan needed was an upheaval! Wolf was loyal to me. He put his duty first. Not once did he submit to his instincts.”

Speaking of his shinobi like this threatened to crack Kuro’s composure, but he refused to show any sort of vulnerability before the general.

Genichiro narrowed his eyes. “I know you have no experience with an alpha’s instinct. What they’re capable of.” He took another step forward, closer to Kuro. “He may have restrained himself before _you,_ but he couldn’t hide it from me.”

“What do you mean?” Kuro asked warily.

Genichiro closed the distance between them, forcing Kuro to tilt his head back. He could feel the heat rolling off the general’s body. His alpha’s scent encompassed Kuro, and he took small, measured breaths.

“He desired you, my omega,” Genichiro said in a low voice. “I won’t fault him for that; any alpha would be a fool to try and resist, but I cannot allow any other near you.”

His words echoed through Kuro’s mind like the gong of a bell. Wolf … desired him? Wanted him? All this time, Kuro thought his shinobi felt nothing but loyalty. 

“You are mistaken,” he said, taking a step back. “Wolf followed the Shinobi Code. He wouldn’t let his personal feelings interfere with his duty.”

“Is that so?” Genichiro followed Kuro, his steps slow and sure. “How would you tell that he followed you out of wanting more than obedience? You only knew that he followed. He was skilled in that regard, I’ll admit. I didn’t even realize it until I caught his scent.”

Kuro pressed his lips in a thin line. The general was toying with him, driving the blade deeper into his heart. Why else would he mention all this? 

His back hit the surface of a pillar, one of those that stood in each corner of the room. _Damn it._ Genichiro had him cornered now, and in more ways than one.

The general towered over him. Dark hair curtained his angular face, shadowing his hungry eyes. Kuro’s stomach clenched at the sight.

“I know you are upset, Divine Heir,” Genichiro said. “In time you will understand. We are at war, and I cannot afford to have such a threat in my own castle.”

“He was not a threat,” Kuro said through gritted teeth. “He was my shinobi.”

“And you are my mate,” Genichiro said, dangerously low and disgustingly smug. “Is that not more important, Divine Heir?”

Kuro slipped away from the pillar, away from the general’s gaze, unable to temper his fury. Yes, he was promised to Genichiro. Now he’d gladly damn the day when Isshin made the announcement!

Genichiro was suddenly there behind him, chest pressed against his back, lips shifting against his hair. Kuro stilled, feeling the hard planes of Genichiro’s body against his own.

“Divine Heir,” the general murmured. “What’s done is done. Mourn him if you will, but you must put your duty first, as will I.”

“I can hardly do my duty when I’m locked in here,” Kuro pointed out.

“Yes, you can.” Genichiro’s breath ghosted over Kuro’s cheek. His scent grew heavier, muddling Kuro’s mind. “I still need your blood. Swear me into your immortal oath.”

Kuro squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment. “I already told you,” he said firmly. “I cannot. The Dragon’s Heritage is not something to be trifled with.”

Genichiro’s growl reverberated in Kuro’s bones. “You think what I want is a _trifle?”_

He sensed the movement more than saw it. Kuro leapt away just as Genichiro made to grab him. Kuro’s arm throbbed with the memory of last evening – the general’s hand around him, tight as a shackle.

Genichiro glowered. “Come here, Divine Heir.”

Kuro’s katana was in his bedroom, but he doubted he’d have enough time to get it. Nor did he want Genichiro to follow him _there._

“I may be promised to you,” Kuro said, taking a calculated step to the side, “but you have no right to hold me thus.”

The stairs to the lookout tower was his best option. There was more space to evade Genichiro up there than in here.

“You make it difficult to trust you, Divine Heir.” Genichiro followed him, matching his steps. They circled each other like two predators, though Kuro felt more like a foolish prey than any predator.

Genichiro lunged, and Kuro barely evaded in time, ducking under the general’s grasping hand. He danced out of the way, keeping light on his feet.

He mustn’t let Genichiro touch him. If he did, Kuro wouldn’t be able to break free, not if Genichiro used his alpha strength. As Kuro dodged another attack, he remembered that he wore his hoari, and quickly shed it. He ought not to wear so many layers.

Genichiro sneered. The hungry light in his eyes grew brighter, and his scent built with such a fervent desire that Kuro’s instincts screamed at him to run.

Then came an attack that Kuro didn’t expect. Genichiro leaped forward with such agility that Kuro stumbled over himself in surprise. The general landed on the floor where Kuro stood just seconds before, but instead of standing, he lunged for Kuro’s feet.

Kuro jumped without thinking and, heart pounding with fear, made his dash for the stairs.

That was a mistake. Genichiro’s hand clamped over Kuro’s arm, wrenching him close, while his other arm snaked around Kuro’s waist. Kuro thrashed, but he couldn’t escape from the general’s hold.

“Let me go!” he shouted.

Genichiro bared his teeth. “You’ve stayed far from me long enough, my omega.”

Kuro’s eyes widened as he realized what Genichiro meant to do. He braced his hands against the general’s strong shoulders, trying to lean away, but Genichiro’s hand cupped around the back of his head and brought him close.

“Wait –” Kuro gasped.

The alpha’s scent filled Kuro’s nostrils even as Genichiro buried his face against his neck. Kuro heard the general’s ragged breathing as though from the other side of a paper screen. His instincts ran in all directions – _relaxing_ in his alpha’s hold, but _revolting_ from this alpha’s marking.

This wasn’t the alpha he wanted. He wanted Wolf.

Genichiro’s teeth and tongue dragged over the sensitive pulse at Kuro’s throat. A strangled gasp escaped Kuro at the sudden, tingling pleasure that coursed through his body. Genichiro’s hands dug into his skin, one of them sliding down his back. He’d never felt this before. It was … It was …

Genichiro pressed their hips tightly together. Kuro felt something stir between them – something hard, rubbing deliciously against him – 

_No, no, no!_

Genichiro suddenly released him and drew away. Kuro gasped for air, clutching at his neck. He could smell Genichiro’s scent everywhere now. It was all over him, covering him from head to toe, emanating from the spot on his neck where Genichiro scent-marked him.

His stomach churned with bile. “You – _why?”_

Genichiro grinned fiercely, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You are mine, Divine Heir. Don’t forget that. Despise me if you will, but know that I do all this for your own good.”

He didn’t wait for Kuro to speak. Turning on his heel, he strode for the shoji and left.

Kuro ran to his bedchamber, covered his face in the sheets, and screamed.

* * *

Isshin weighed the shinobi’s katana in his hand. Genichiro had given it to him last night, along with a tale about Kuro’s shinobi being an alpha. A strange tale, to be sure, and a shadow upon Hirata’s memory. 

If Kuro knew his shinobi’s secret … That could mean a number of things. Isshin had to give Kuro credit for keeping silent; causing more turmoil in Hirata, and now in Ashina, wasn’t what anybody needed or wanted at this time. And yet …

Isshin sighed heavily, a low rumble in his throat. If only Owl was still alive! He’d have some words for the Great Shinobi for certain.

He’d already had his words with Genichiro. There was no need to imprison Kuro in the castle citadel! His grandson refused, of course, stubborn sort that he was. 

If he continued on this path, who would have the strength to stop him?

A knock on the shoji drew Isshin from his thoughts. “It is Emma, my lord.”

“Come in.”

Emma entered and settled herself beside the futon. “We found him,” she reported, her silken voice low and calm. “He’s still unconscious, but he’s alive. He is with Orangutan now.”

“Good. You will bring this to him.” Isshin held out the katana, sheathed in its black scabbard. The shinobi was going to need it.

Emma took the katana with a sure hand and bowed.

“And,” Isshin added, “keep an eye on Kuro. Help him with whatever he needs.”

“Yes, my lord. And what of Genichiro?”

“Watch him too. Report back to me on anything you find odd.”

Emma nodded, bowed again, and departed from the room.

Isshin sighed. He hated to put a watch on Genichiro, but all that was happening made him uneasy, and even a little guilty. He’d put Kuro into this position after all, promising him off to his grandson. At the time, it was logical. But now everything was different.

He glanced over his shoulder at the nearby folding screen. Behind it lay a pile of robes, and a red mask.

Perhaps it was nearly time to leave the castle again.

* * *

It was impossible to wash Genichiro’s scent away.

Kuro scrubbed and scrubbed, soaking his towel into the bucket of water over and over again, rubbing at his neck until his skin shone red and raw. He left all the windows open, letting the winter air blow inside, chilling his room.

Still Genichiro’s stench clung to him, his skin and hair, his clothes, everywhere. He was scent-marked.

Kuro didn’t know whether to throw an object at the wall or cry. Perhaps both. 

He did want to hunt Genichiro down and – do what? Strike him? The thought made his fingers twitch. He wanted to do _something._

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t fight Genichiro. He was a weak omega, and the general was an alpha with many years of experience.

At that moment, Kuro hated himself. If only he’d been born an alpha, or even a beta! He’d at least have a fighting chance against Genichiro. _Damn_ his fate!

If he’d been anything other than an omega … Perhaps he could have saved Hirata. His people wouldn’t have died in a massacre. His uncle’s work wouldn’t be all for nothing.

Tears stung his eyes. The end of the year was almost upon him. In less than two months, he’d be mated to Genichiro, and if the general’s actions today were any indication of what _that’d_ be like … 

Kuro let loose a frustrated exclamation. He couldn’t stay here. He wouldn’t let Genichiro hold him captive.

He strode over to one of the large windows and looked out over the castle. Small flurries of snow fell to the ground, down below. He knew most of the paths over the rooftops. He could leave at night, sliding through shadows as Wolf had taught, and escape the castle.

But where would he go? 

He’d search for Wolf, but perhaps his shinobi resurrected already. Maybe he’d already moved. Kuro was no tracker, nor did he know of any places to hide. To the west of Ashina was the Uesugi Clan, who stood against Tokugawa and the Interior Ministry. If Kuro crossed Ashina’s border, he could very well make it into Uesugi.

But what of General Nobuharu? Kuro couldn't leave him here at Genichiro’s mercy …

Something shifted in his peripheral. Kuro glanced along the rooftop and saw a Nightjar, crouching low on the roof’s edge. The Nightjar Ninja patrolled the castle day and night. Kuro grit his teeth and turned away from the window.

Emma didn’t come at noon, nor afterwards. Kuro ate the food that his servants brought, though he hardly had any appetite. He must leave the castle in order to find Nobuharu, but his general could be anywhere. The dungeons, the advisors’ wing … Genichiro could have killed him and thrown him out without Kuro’s knowledge.

Fear solidified like a block of lead in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. It wouldn’t hurt to scout around. He could eavesdrop where he could, gather anything of importance, listen for Nobuharu’s name. He’d return to his room before anyone missed him.

With that in mind, he set to work in planning a route, and waited for nightfall.

Cold, winter air blew over Kuro’s face as he stepped out onto the roof. The moon and stars hid behind dark clouds. He drew in a shaky breath, feet pressed flat against the clay roof tiles.

Then he crouched low and melded into the shadows.

He spotted a few Nightjar as he scurried along the rooftops. His heart leapt into his throat each time. There was something different about scaling the buildings without Wolf at his side; his shinobi always had more eyes open than just two, scanning for any unwanted obstacle. Kuro’s senses weren’t as good as Wolf’s. What if … 

No. He couldn’t let that hinder him if he wanted to succeed. Kuro kept low, looking around for any Nightjar, then leapt down onto another roof.

Warm light glowed in the castle’s windows, trailing all the way into the market below. A murmur of voices emanated from a nearby sill. Kuro steeled himself and dashed over to it, straining his ears to listen.

“… running out of salt,” a man said. “I’m running out of suppliers, too.”

“Better find more,” another replied, “or we won’t be able to treat our soldiers’ wounds.”

“I know that,” the first one snapped. “But they’re getting picked off too fast.”

Kuro listened further, but heard nothing more of interest. Circling around the building revealed other voices here and there, yet he heard nothing of Nobuharu, or even of important matters.

Kuro climbed up onto another roof and hurried across it to an adjoining building. The shutters were closed in some of these windows; as Kuro passed then, he heard the strain of a familiar voice, and paused.

“… the state of those men,” a woman's voice said. _Emma._ “What you are doing is dangerous, Genichiro. Nothing good will come of it.”

“I do not need _good_ to come out of it.” That was Genichiro. Kuro pressed himself against the wall. “I only need results. How else do you suggest I secure Ashina’s future?”

“This isn’t the way.”

“Then go to the Divine Heir and convince him to give his blood. I do this only out of necessity.”

Emma huffed in exasperation. “Speaking of the Divine Heir,” she said shortly. “I must check on him. Who knows what lasting damage your retainer left on his head?”

Their footsteps faded away. Kuro allowed himself a moment to breathe before dashing off along the rooftop.

His heart raced as he hurried back to the castle’s lookout tower. No Nightjar spotted him, thank the gods, and he soon landed soundly on the lookout’s tatami mats, face stinging from the biting winds. He ran down the stairs into his room and sat down on the prayer mat.

The weight of what he’d done suddenly fell on him. He evaded the Nightjar Ninja _and_ overheard Genichiro! Kuro breathed deep, waiting for his heart to calm. He mustn’t get ahead of himself; he still needed to find out where Nobuharu was held. 

Not to mention Emma ought to arrive sometime soon …

Kuro thought back to her words. What had they spoken of? What did Emma mean? And if Genichiro could speak so openly about the Dragon’s Heritage to her, that must mean she knew of it.

Kuro shut his eyes for a moment. How many others knew of his Heritage?

Was there anybody he could trust in this castle?

Emma arrived ten minutes later. “Lord Kuro. I trust you are well?”

No, he was not, but he decided not to say that. “Welcome, Lady Emma.”

She knelt upon the prayer mat beside him and checked his head. Fortunately, she found nothing out of the ordinary save for a bruise. Kuro drank the tonic that she gave him, and he couldn’t help but notice how she watched him. There was a strange weight to her gaze that made his chest tighten with unease.

Once he was finished, she said, “Lord Kuro, there is something I must tell you.”

Kuro set the cup down, keeping his expression neutral. “What is it?”

Emma lowered her voice. “I know that you have the Dragon’s Heritage.”

There it was. Kuro exhaled slowly, keeping his hands still upon his knees. “What of it?”

“Lord Genichiro desires your blood. You know he will do anything to acquire it.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me,” Kuro said carefully. “I am to be his mate, and alphas –”

“In his view, he will not hurt you.” Emma’s eyes bored into his. “It will mean differently for you. He is getting desperate.”

“The Ministry hasn’t yet reached the castle, have they?”

“No, no,” Emma said quickly. “It’s just … Something else has come up.”

Kuro frowned. “What is it?”

“Someone passed through the castle’s outer defences not half an hour ago.”

His heart quickened. “Who?”

There was a knowing gleam in Emma’s eyes. “A rogue shinobi, or so I hear.”

Wolf. It had to be Wolf. Kuro forced himself to breathe normally. His shinobi, his beloved Wolf, he was _alive …_

If only Kuro had stayed outside for longer! He could’ve left the castle and searched for Wolf … 

“Genichiro knows about this,” Emma continued. “He thinks he can stop your shinobi from reaching the castle, but in the event that he can’t, he’ll – likely hasten the mating ceremony.”

Ice trickled through Kuro’s veins.

“Once you are mated, he will have a greater hold over you. Your instincts and scents – they’ll get stronger after the mating bond is established.”

Kuro swallowed. “Is there a way to prevent that?” he asked.

“I know of some tonics and herbs,” Emma said. “But prolonged use can damage the body.”

Frustration boiled in Kuro’s gut. “Then what do you suggest I do? I cannot escape this place, and even if I could, I will not abandon Nobuharu.” Genichiro had him trapped.

“I will do what I can to help you,” Emma said, eyes bright. “You’re not alone, Lord Kuro.”

Kuro stared at her, bewildered. “But – why would you help me? Are you not in Lord Genichiro’s service?”

She shook her head. “No. My master is Lord Isshin. He gave me orders to aid you.”

 _Isshin._ Kuro could hardly believe it, even as he relaxed with relief. If there was one man who could command Genichiro, even when ill, it was his grandfather.

A spark of hope entered Kuro’s heart. “How do you plan to help me?” he asked.

Emma straightened. “How much do you know about the dragon’s blood?”

“Not much,” Kuro admitted. “Only that it gives immortality to my oathbound.”

“There is more,” Emma said. “I will tell you of it.”

And so they spoke into the night.

* * *

The next morning, Kuro awoke from a knock on his shoji. He rubbed his eyes; his sleep last night had been a restless one.

“Who is it?” he called.

“It is I, Lord Kuro,” Emma said on the other side. “Lord Genichiro awaits you.”

Kuro’s stomach dropped. “Very well, I will be there soon.”

He got up and hurriedly dressed for the day. A book lay next to his futon, one that he’d found in the library after Emma left last night. The cover was worn and fraying at the edges, but the pages were still intact. The title read, _Immortal Severance texts._

Kuro slipped the book under his futon and left his bedroom to find Genichiro in the main room. The sight of him sent a chill over Kuro’s bare skin, a mix of renewed fear and loathing. Genichiro’s scent still clung to him like a second skin, one that Kuro couldn’t shed no matter how much he tried.

Emma was also there, standing by the general’s side. She caught his eye with a warning look.

“Divine Heir,” Genichiro said, his gaze flickering over Kuro’s clothed form. “Come with me.”

At least he spared the pleasantries. Kuro followed him up the stairs to the lookout. The sky was streaked with pink and golden clouds, and patches of snow gleamed on the ground far below.

Kuro halted next to the railing, looking out over the land. He could feel Genichiro’s presence behind him.

“How can you bear to look at Ashina when you have already forsaken her?” the general asked softly.

Kuro resisted the urge to recoil from him. “My blood will do nothing to save her.” He was certain of that now. Emma’s words from the previous night solidified his feelings that the Dragon’s Heritage was a curse. The Rejuvenating Waters, the Dragonrot … It would only destroy Ashina.

And Wolf … What had he sentenced his shinobi to?

Genichiro moved away after a moment, pacing the lookout. He did not need to say anything, nor did Kuro have to look at Emma to know what was the matter. Genichiro’s scent was enough. The spike of anticipation, eagerness, told him everything. The general was waiting for something, or someone.

Kuro’s pulse quickened as he waited. Everything appeared so quiet from up here, but if what Emma said was true, and if he understood the change in Genichiro’s scent …

Wolf was coming.

Kuro could feel it in his bones. He reached into the folds of his kimono and felt the thin shape of the reed whistle, the one that Wolf gave him long ago. He pulled it out; the whistle looked as new as on the day when Wolf carved it. 

His shinobi’s scent still covered the whistle, if only faintly.

Out of instinct, Kuro put it to his lips. Wolf used it once, as well. Kuro’s heart leapt as he blew the whistle.

The high note cut through the silence, echoing on the air. Kuro listened as it faded away, then blew it again.

“Divine Heir,” Genichiro said sharply.

Kuro glanced over his shoulder with an innocent look. “Yes?”

Genichiro seemed to realize that there was no point in addressing it. He narrowed his gaze, but stepped toward Kuro. In response, Kuro moved away from the railing toward the lookout’s shoji.

“Divine Heir, I’ll ask you once more.” Genichiro held his katana out horizontally. “Swear me into your immortal oath.”

“I cannot do that, Lord Genichiro,” Kuro replied, as certain as he’d been the previous evening. “It will not stop any of this. You must know that. He will risk his life to take me back. He is my shinobi.”

He caught the familiar, musky scent before he saw Wolf land. It enveloped him, caressing his senses and skin, and all the tension left his shoulders for a heartbeat.

And then he saw his shinobi there, rising from his crouch. “I have come for you, my lord.”

Kuro’s heart soared. Wolf appeared the same as when he’d last seen him – unharmed, if not a little windblown. Fresh stains of blood splattered his haori. Did that blood belong to Wolf, or Ashina’s samurai?

Then their eyes met for a split second. All of Kuro’s instincts cried out for him to join Wolf, to run to his side and embrace him.

Wolf’s gaze intensified, but shifted over to Genichiro who stood between them. His hand went to Kusabimaru, and it was then that Kuro saw his left arm.

It was a prosthetic. Where had Wolf gotten it?

“This …” Wolf drew his katana, “will only take a moment, my lord.”

Genichiro unsheathed his blade without hesitation.

Both their scents roiled in the air, clashing and mixing into a stench that overwhelmed Kuro’s mind. The hairs on his arms stood up, and his senses tingled with the scent of danger all around him

 _Wait,_ he wanted to shout. He ought to do something, but he didn’t know what. Stop Genichiro? Fight at Wolf’s side?

Hands took him then, pulling him away towards the shoji. It was Emma.

“No,” Kuro protested.

“You mustn’t interfere with them,” she said firmly, drawing him past the open shoji to the top of the stairs.

“But –”

“Smell their scents! You will only be a distraction. They will tear you apart if you interfere now.”

She was right. He was still an omega, after all.

Kuro fixed his eyes on Wolf, so close and yet so far, and every part of him ached.

Then Emma slid the shoji closed, and they were separated once again.

* * *

Wolf nearly howled when Emma took Lord Kuro away. He needed to be at his lord's side, and yet –

Here was something he needed to finish first.

Genichiro bared his teeth in a growl. Wolf responded in kind.

They lunged for each other at the same time. Wolf held his ground against Genichiro's strength; there was no restraint in him.

Nor was there any in Wolf. Not this time.

He only saw Genichiro, this alpha who dared to come between them and steal his lord against his will. His vision tinted red. His hackles rose. The instinct to protect his omega coursed through him.

He'd sworn to exact vengeance for his lord and himself. 

Kusabimaru drove through a gap in Genichiro's armour, and the general staggered back with a grunt.

Everything went still.

"Impressive," Genichiro murmured. "Shinobi of the Divine Heir. With strength like yours … You deserve better. Would you not answer to a different lord?"

Wolf growled low in his throat.

Genichiro chuckled softly. His wound seemed not to bother him. Wolf's brow furrowed.

"I know you want him," Genichiro said. "An impossible desire, but … Should you pledge loyalty to me, I will not cast you out. Away from him."

Wolf remained unmoving. It was a lie. Genichiro was desperate, that much was clear. Desperate for more strength, more power, more control.

Nor would he let any other alpha near Lord Kuro If he could help it. Did he really think Wolf would fall for that? Join Genichiro, and the man would have all command over him.

"You speak heresy," Wolf said.

Genichiro narrowed his eyes. "Heresy? If it's for the sake of preserving Ashina … I will seize any manner of heretical strength. I will endure any burden."

The clouds darkened over them. Thunder rumbled overhead, and Wolf caught the metallic smell of a storm. Genichiro straightened, shedding all his plates of armour until his torso and arms were bare. The blackened burns travelled up his arms and over his chest.

"Behold," he said, his katana crackling with white fire. "The Lightning of Tomoe."

Within one of the castle's chambers was a tapestry depicting an old battle. Wolf had taken a quick look at it. 

Ghosts once descended to Ashina, bringing the lightning with them. There was a way to reverse it, according to the tapestry, and Wolf could only pray that this technique would work.

Genichiro brought his katana around in a wide arc, and the lightning followed, crackling with wrath.

Wolf leaped at the same time and caught the ribbon of light in Kusabimaru. In that second, he felt its energy travelling along the blade, bursting with power and might. One wrong move would turn it upon himself.

He sliced Kusabimaru through the air, at the same time landing soundly on his feet, and the bolt of lightning shot back at Genichiro.

At that moment, Wolf dashed forward and attacked.

Genichiro recovered quickly, damn him. They traded blows and parries; Genichiro leapt back at one point, bringing out his bow and firing arrows that coursed with lightning. Wolf deflected them, keeping focused, all his mind bent toward ridding his lord of this threat.

Lord Kuro was waiting for him.

Wolf redirected another strike of lightning and leapt forward, driving Kusabimaru through Genichiro's chest all the way through.

Genichiro wheezed and fell to the ground. "Ah … shina …"

Wolf withdrew Kusabimaru and flicked the blood from the blade. It was done.

In the silence that followed, the lookout's shoji cracked open, and a face appeared. "Master Wolf. You were victorious, I see."

Wolf strode over to where Emma stood, half-hidden behind the shoji. She'd helped him get past the castle's defences, but if this was a trick –

"I mean you no harm," she said in a reassuring tone, sliding the shoji further open. "I –"

Her gaze shifted over Wolf's shoulder, and she gasped. "Lord Genichiro!"

Wolf spun around in time to see Genichiro's corpse rise up in a red mist, settling on its feet. A wheezing breath left his lips.

"Resurrection," Wolf murmured.

"The Rejuvenating Waters?" Emma whispered, more to herself than anybody else.

Wolf didn't know what she meant, nor did he care in that moment. Genichiro glared at him, eyes burning with a red light. "This land is everything to me," he breathed. "For her sake … I will shed humanity itself."

Wolf felt a surge of fury. Genichiro cared more for Ashina than its people, even the one whom he'd call his mate.

"Mark my words, shinobi," Genichiro growled. "I will return."

Wolf slowly advanced, keeping Kusabimaru raised, but the general leapt over the railing. A flash of lightning filled the tower, and Genichiro was gone.

Wolf’s chest heaved with heavy breaths. He waited for several heartbeats, but nothing happened.

“I doubt he’ll be back for a while,” Emma commented quietly.

Wolf rounded on her. “And what of you?” he demanded. "Who is your master?"

The shadow of a smile played over her lips. "Lord Isshin."

Wolf blinked in surprise. That wasn't what he'd expected. What use did Isshin find in helping him?

"You should go," Emma continued. "Lord Kuro is downstairs."

Wolf didn't need to be told. He could smell his lord's scent from here, sweet as sakura, calling to him.

"I will stay up here for a little longer," Emma added. "Lord Genichiro may return, after all."

Wolf swiftly descended down the stairs, heart pounding against his ribs. _My lord, my lord …_

And there he was, standing by the altar in the main room, candlelight playing across his porcelain face. Lord Kuro.

Wolf nearly ran to him, but he restrained himself and strode over, dipping into a kneel. "I have come for you, my lord."

"Rise," Lord Kuro said, softer than a breath. "You did well to come here."

Wolf stood and gazed into his lord's face. He looked much the same, unhurt and unruffled, and Wolf was glad for it –

But no, something was off. Wolf inhaled sharply, drawing in a shocking scent, and instinctively tensed. "My lord?"

Lord Kuro gasped softly. His hand flew to the side of his neck. "Oh – I'm sorry, Wolf –"

Wolf stared at him. His sakura scent was there, but mixed with Genichiro's stench. It permeated Lord Kuro's clothes, curling around him like tendrils of invisible smoke, choking vines around a blossoming tree.

"He – he marked you," Wolf breathed, not even remembering propriety.

Lord Kuro nodded, his eyes downcast in shame. "Yes."

 _Against your will?_ Wolf nearly said, but the answer stood before him. There was no hint of joy in his lord's aroma. No harmonious mixing of scents. Genichiro took him by force.

Wolf wished he'd ripped the general apart. Genichiro deserved worse than what Wolf gave him.

And he should have come sooner. Wolf should have stopped this before it happened.

What else did Genichiro do to Wolf's lord?

As if reading his mind, Lord Kuro said, "You mustn't blame yourself, Wolf. It was my fault."

"No," Wolf said, with more force than he meant. “It was not.”

Lord Kuro looked up at him with a wary hope. Wolf swallowed imperceptibly; standing before his lord always made his stomach flutter. He’d faced many threats and opponents over the years, but none made him more – _nervous_ than his lord. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Lord Kuro rubbed his neck, looking very self-conscious. “If this bothers you, I’ll find something to cover up. I ought to have done that earlier …”

“My lord,” Wolf said suddenly, then bit his tongue.

“Yes?”

 _What was he thinking?_ He shouldn’t have said anything at all! To even consider this idea was blasphemous, and yet …

He hated to see his lord in such discomfort. And by Genichiro, of all people.

Lord Kuro waited expectantly. Wolf took a deep breath and said, “If you wish it, I will remove his scent.”

His lord’s eyes widened. “Wolf …”

“Forgive me for being so forward,” Wolf murmured, mortification welling within his chest. To remove Genichiro’s scent meant that he’d mark Lord Kuro with his own.

Lord Kuro took a step closer to him. Then he leaned forward slightly and sniffed.

“Your scent,” he murmured, frowning. “It’s … changed.” He took another breath. “Sakura …”

“My lord, if you do not want this –” Wolf began.

“I do!” Lord Kuro said quickly. He seemed startled by his own outburst, but composed himself in a heartbeat. “I – I do. Your scent is somewhat like mine now. That should help to throw anybody off. But Wolf … Is this what _you_ want to do?”

Wolf returned his lord’s serious gaze. “Yes,” he said firmly.

That was the truth. Perhaps half of it was borne out of some deep selfishness – his desire to be with Lord Kuro as more than just his shinobi. It was an impossible hope, but even this act would be enough to satisfy him, if only for a time.

“You would really do this for me?” Lord Kuro asked softly.

“Yes, my lord,” Wolf replied. “Anything you desire.”

Lord Kuro closed the distance between them. The muscles in his throat tensed, and his scent grew thick with anticipation. Wolf’s heart pounded against his ribs even as his body flushed with warmth.

The alpha in him reared, eager to embrace his lord, but Wolf resisted it and kept his arms stiff at his sides. He leaned in, nose brushing against Lord Kuro’s neck, breathing in the sweet aroma of sakura. It filled him to the brim, with a wave of contentment spreading through his mind. He could stand here forever, taking in his lord’s scent …

Wolf pressed his cheek against Lord Kuro’s skin. He heard a soft intake of breath, and his lord’s hands gripped his shoulders. Heat pooled in Wolf’s core, and he rubbed his face against his lord’s scent glands.

Removing Genichiro’s scent. Replacing it with his own.

Without thinking, Wolf pressed closer to Lord Kuro with eagerness, bringing their bodies flush together. Lord Kuro gasped, and Wolf froze.

“It’s alright,” his lord whispered. “Keep going.”

A whine built in Wolf’s throat. He moved closer, wanting nothing more than to feel every part of Lord Kuro, to learn every part of him. Closer …

Lord Kuro’s arms wrapped around Wolf’s shoulders, and they were pressed so tightly together that Wolf could feel his firm body beneath the layers of kimono. A growl rumbled in his chest. He ached with need, filled with such heat that he thought he’d burst.

His arms wrapped around Lord Kuro before he could stop himself, and a second later his lord was pressed up against the wall. A soft moan escaped Lord Kuro’s lips as Wolf rubbed harsher against his neck, marking him deeper, _deeper –_

It was an alpha’s duty to please their omega, was it not? Wolf could do his job as well as any, but he’d never _loved_ another before. Never like this.

He was a quick learner, though. He’d learn, and he would please his lord with all that he had –

Wolf gasped, half-strangled, and withdrew sharply to look at Lord Kuro. His lord’s face was flushed pink, and his eyes were closed.

 _What had he –_ Wolf had gone too far this time, _too_ far. He scrambled for words, but his voice escaped him. Shock and desire curled in him, turning him to stone.

Lord Kuro slowly opened his eyes. His pupils were blown wide. _Very_ wide.

Wolf swallowed hard. He had never dealt with these feelings before, and in this moment of longing and need, of _finally_ having the chance to give in to his desires, he found that he was afraid. What if he hurt his lord? What if …

Awareness coalesced in Lord Kuro’s gaze. His hold tightened around Wolf, but his expression remained warm and gentle.

“Wolf,” he said gently. “It’s alright.”

“You don’t know what I could do,” Wolf rasped. He didn’t even know himself.

“I know that I want you,” his lord replied with certainty. “Do you want me?”

Wolf found it hard to breathe. He nodded once, and then again. “Yes,” he said. “Yes.”

Lord Kuro smiled with such tenderness that Wolf shivered. He held his lord’s gaze for what felt like ages, need overtaking him once again, and then –

Their lips met, and Wolf lost all train of thought. All he knew was that his lord tasted sweet, and Wolf _hungered._

His leg wedged between his lord’s thighs, locking them together against the wall. His lord’s mouth was soft and warm, and Wolf moved deeper into the kiss, breathing heavily, growling softly as his body tingled with pleasure. He wanted more. Needed more.

Lord Kuro’s hand clutched the back of Wolf’s head, digging into his hair, but Wolf hardly felt it. He trembled with pleasure at how strong his omega had grown, and how _eager_ he was.

The kiss eventually broke, to Wolf’s fierce disappointment. Both he and Lord Kuro gasped for air, breathing in each other’s scents, and Wolf rumbled with delight to smell his own scent on his lord. Genichiro’s stench was gone completely.

For a moment, Wolf considered kissing Lord Kuro again. The need in him hadn't abated, but at the same time, the more rational part of his mind protested. Lord Kuro was still his _lord._ He ought to take things slow lest he make a mistake.

Lord Kuro chuckled breathlessly, his face and neck flushed with warmth, and aglow with his smile. Even as he tucked himself against Wolf’s chest in a simple embrace, Wolf felt his heart soar.

He’d never seen anything, _felt_ anything, more beautiful than this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some relationship progress! XDDD  
> Also, that's the only painting I've done so far for this fic loll I did prepare a kurowolf drawing, but it's still a sketch, and I dunno if I'll complete it ^^;;;
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! Y'all are the best, honestly <333


	13. Immortal Severance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That feeling when you reread the previous chapter cuz the comments made you all fuzzy inside, and you find a bunch of typos T_T
> 
> In all seriousness though, we are now officially into the game's events! And it's at this point that I have to mention a worry I have. Writing out the game's dialogue and scenes can get tedious after a while, and I feel that it'll get boring for you guys since (I'm assuming) you all know the game's events by this point lol  
> So I've done my best to write the scenes as best I can, taking out some dialogue while keeping others in. It's hard to decide which to go with, really. In the end, I hope I don't bore you guys with it all, but if I do, I'm very sorry ^^;;;
> 
> Most of the travelling and boss fights will either be cut out or summarized since we all know how Wolf does that stuff. If I don't write it here -- Wolf killing all those mini bosses, grappling up mountainsides, buying food and whatnot from memorial mobs -- you can definitely assume it happened in the story XDD

“Your arm?” Lord Kuro asked, fingers hovering over the prosthetic.

“I had help from a sculptor outside the castle,” Wolf explained. “This is a shinobi prosthetic.”

“I see. And … how do you feel?”

Wolf considered that for a heartbeat. “I am well now, my lord.”

Lord Kuro smiled with relief, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, not with the concern gleaming there. “I am glad to hear it.”

Wolf felt a surge of protectiveness as he gazed into his lord’s face. His hands remained splayed over Lord Kuro’s back; it took him a moment to remember that this was not proper for a lord and retainer, and he hastily drew his hands away. Lord Kuro raised his eyebrows in question.

“My lord,” Wolf murmured. “Let us go. We must leave Ashina.”

Several things passed behind Lord Kuro’s eyes, shadows of a deep turmoil. He leaned away from the embrace to face Wolf fully. 

“Wolf,” he said heavily, “I cannot.”

Wolf frowned. Lord Kuro took a deep breath and continued, “My blood. The blood of the dragon causes men to become undying. The same goes for you.”

His eyes shone as he gazed at Wolf. “I wished to save you. And I would do the same thing given another chance. However, undying begets stagnation.” A haunted look passed over his face. “Lady Emma spoke to me of it. The immortal oath, the Rejuvenating Waters, the dragonrot – they all corrupt men to the point that they no longer live as men.”

Emma had spoken to Wolf about it, as well. The dragonrot was a product of dying and resurrecting repeatedly, to the point where the oathbound drew on the energy of others. Doing so made them mortally ill.

“I wish to sever the ties of immortality,” Lord Kuro said. “Will you help me achieve this aim?”

Severing immortality … What would that mean for his lord? How would it affect him? 

A voice whispered in his mind, taking on Owl’s tone. _You cannot break the Iron Code._

“I cannot,” Wolf replied, kneeling, bowing his head. “To protect you, the Divine Heir – that was the duty my father entrusted to me. What I swore to do.”

There was a shift of movement, and then, to his utter shock, Lord Kuro knelt before him. “How many times have you died and come back to life for my sake?” he asked. “Two, three times? Or perhaps a number so large that it cannot be counted?”

“As it was for the purpose of defending my lord, the number does not matter.” In any case, it had only been four times.

“I do not wish to bind you to an eternity of undeath,” Lord Kuro said earnestly. He bowed his head, and a tremor passed through his voice. “Wolf … Join me in my quest to sever the ties of immortality.”

Wolf ground his teeth together. He couldn’t disobey a direct order, nor could he turn his lord away.

“As you wish.” If this was what his lord dearly wanted, Wolf would do it, and he’d keep him safe.

Lord Kuro’s face shone with gratitude. “Thank you, loyal Wolf.”

They both stood. “I know a good place to start,” Lord Kuro said, and he held up an old book. “This is an ancient record that was kept here, in the castle. It goes on about the art of severing ties with the Dragon’s Heritage. I was surprised to find it.”

And so Wolf learned about the dragon’s tears, and that they could be found in the Divine Realm. To get there would require the fountainhead aroma, as mentioned by Lord Takeru, the previous Divine Heir.

“I found a few of his books in the library,” Lord Kuro continued. “Records that he collected in order to find the Divine Realm again. I’ll see what more I can find.”

Wolf wanted to say that he wasn’t concerned about the enormity of the task, but he couldn’t help but feel a stirring in his stomach at the thought. Would he find the ingredients for the aroma in time? What if he failed his lord?

No, he mustn’t doubt himself now. “In addition to finding a way to reach the divine realm, might we also look into how we might sever the immortal ties?”

“A fine idea!” Lord Kuro said. “Talk to Isshin. If anyone knows the answer, it is him. But –” Here, he lowered his voice. “He is not within this castle citadel. He is recuperating in one of these watchtowers. Emma said that the path to his watchtower is closed, however. His health is a little …” His lord trailed off.

Wolf knew Isshin’s illness had slowly worsened over the years, but perhaps it was more so than he’d thought. “How do I get in?”

“You can take the Nightjar’s path. It’s marked by smoke signals; they ought to lead you to Lord Isshin.”

Wolf nodded briskly. “Very well. I will return soon, my lord.”

“I will wait for you,” Lord Kuro replied. Then, blushing, he leaned forward and kissed the corner of Wolf’s lips.

As much as Wolf wanted to stay and hold his lord close, he knew he couldn’t. He needed to carry out his work if he wanted to return quickly. Therefore he departed swiftly through the window, with his lord’s gaze following him.

Wolf found Isshin without a problem. The lord of Ashina lounged back on his futon within the watchtower, dressed only in a white yukata. He glanced up as Wolf entered, and a sharp gleam entered his eyes.

“Kuro’s shinobi, eh? It is good to see you standing.”

Wolf knelt before him. A flask sat nearby with an empty cup. Isshin’s alpha scent suffused the air, but it was calm and contained, and bore the underlying stench of illness.

“I have something to ask about the Divine Heir’s life,” Wolf began.

“Before that,” Isshin said, taking up the flask, “sake!”

He proceeded to push the flask into Wolf’s hands. One sniff told him that this was unrefined sake, the kind to make somebody too drunk too quickly. Wolf tucked it away, certain that he wouldn’t be using it anytime soon.

“You did well to return to your master,” Isshin said. “My grandson Genichiro locked him in the castle. He told me he cast you out.” He half-smiled. “Kuro is fortunate to have such loyalty by his side.”

“I merely followed the code my father taught me.” If Isshin knew how Wolf felt about Lord Kuro …

Isshin arched an amused eyebrow. “Ah, the Iron Code of the Shinobi? So you’re the son of Owl. That boy he found during the rebellion.”

“Yes.”

“And your travels brought you here.” Isshin chuckled. “The bonds that tie us are so deeply amusing! Don’t you think … Sekiro?”

Wolf’s eyes widened. The memory of a tall man surfaced in his mind, found in Ashina’s Outskirts, wearing a tengu mask and surrounded by the corpses of Shadow Longswordsmen.

_No name to give? You shinobi are all the same. You die nameless, with no one to mourn you. However … your left arm. A prosthetic shinobi arm._

_That's it... a one-armed Wolf. I like it! Which means... Sekiro. This is what I shall name you._

“You’re -” Wolf breathed, dumbfounded.

Isshin chuckled to himself. “So,” he said, fixing Wolf with a piercing gaze. “What do you wish to know?”

Wolf told him of Lord Kuro’s wish. Isshin tilted his head in thought as he listened, and afterwards said, “The Mortal Blade. With such a weapon, you could kill one who cannot die through normal means.”

At Wolf’s questioning look, Isshin elaborated. “The infested, I believe they’re called. I’ve not seen one before, but it’s said you could stab them through the heart, or remove their head, and they wouldn’t die. If the stories are true, they’d surely be quite fearsome …”

He trailed off, a distant look on his face. Wolf remained silent. He knew that Isshin loved a good fight more than anything else. If he’d been able to, no doubt he would have searched for an infested opponent to fight. 

“Where is this Mortal Blade?” Wolf asked after a moment.

“I’ve heard it’s held in Senpou Temple,” Isshin replied. “However, they say the Mortal Blade cannot be drawn.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not certain of the meaning,” Isshin said dismissively. “It’s just hearsay.”

Whether it was true or not, Wolf would find the blade.

“The gates to that temple are closed now, though,” Isshin said. A disdainful scowl appeared on his face. “Who knows what those degenerates are doing shut away up there in the mountains.” There aren’t any decent roads leading there.”

Wolf had no problem with that. Owl had trained him on nearly every terrain he could think of. “Thank you for the information.”

Isshin arched an eyebrow as Wolf stood and moved to the sliding window. “Oh? Leaving already, Sekiro?” He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Severing immortality will be quite the battle. And in battle, the plans and desires of those involved churn endlessly. If you hesitate you’ll be swept away …”

“... and lose the battle,” Wolf finished in a murmur.

Isshin laughed aloud. “That’s right. Best you keep that in mind. Sekiro. Hesitate, and you lose.”

Back in the castle citadel, Wolf found Lord Kuro in the library. The sight of him stirred something within his hakama, and Wolf’s face flushed with warmth.

His lord faced away from him; he coughed, waving a hand near the shelves. “Ugh, this dust is awful.”

Wolf strode up without hesitation and kneeled, breathing in his lord’s enticing scent. “I have returned.”

Lord Kuro spun around. “Wolf! You may rise. Did you meet with Lord Isshin?”

Wolf relayed what Isshin had said.

“The Mortal Blade,” Lord Kuro repeated to himself in a murmur. “I see. Yes, that sounds promising.”

He glanced at the bookshelf beside him. “For my part, I retrieved the books that I found to contain clues about the Fountainhead aroma.”

He proceeded to speak of a flower, white and deeply fragrant, one that could be found where the rejuvenating waters pooled deeply. According to Lord Kuro’s research, such waters flowed from the Fountainhead into Ashina, likely gathering in a deep valley.

“The sunken valley may be the place.” Lord Kuro brought out a map, yellowed with age, and pointed out the area. It lay just beyond the woods behind Ashina Castle. Wolf committed the layout to memory.

“There’s a shrine dedicated to the White Serpent deep in the woods,” Lord Kuro added. “There’s no proper path down there, but a man of your talent could navigate it.” His eyes gleamed, and Wolf’s body flushed with a deeper heat.

“I see,” he said. “I will return shortly.”

Lord Kuro folded up the map. His voice tinged with regret. “I would go with you, but … I cannot leave the castle leaderless. With Lord Genichiro gone …”

He fell silent. Wolf’s brow furrowed, but he could not read the look in his lord’s eyes.

Lord Kuro glanced at Wolf. “What is it?”

“I do not like to leave you here unprotected.”

His lord’s cheeks coloured in faint pink, pale as sakura petals. “I will be alright,” he said. “Lady Emma is here with me. I will still be here when you return.”

 _And if Genichiro returns?_ Wolf said nothing, though the question hovered on the tip of his tongue. If the general did return, Wolf would stop at nothing to ensure his lord’s safety.

“In truth,” Lord Kuro said quietly, “I do not like to see you go, either. Here, Wolf. It would ease my mind if you took this.”

He brought out a gourd-shaped flask. Liquid sloshed inside, carrying a mild herbal smell.

“It’s filled with medicinal waters. Use it to heal your wounds should you sustain them.”

Wolf nodded and took the gourd, tying it to his obi. It weighed light despite its contents.

Then he looked back at his lord and went still. The warmth between them thickened, their mixing scents heady and strong. Wolf had sworn never to leave his lord again, and now what was he doing? To depart from Lord Kuro’s side was … unthinkable.

Lord Kuro licked his lips with a dart of his pink tongue. Wolf’s mouth dried. His instincts rankled to embrace him, to mark him – 

And then he was kissing his lord, not knowing how it started, but deeply pleased to continue. They moved slowly at first, lips melding against each other, tasting, deepening. Wolf’s cock stiffened in his hakama, and he pressed closer, a low rumble sounding within his chest. He wanted _more …_

But his mission. His mission! He broke away first with a gasp, breathing heavily. Lord Kuro’s face was flushed with warmth.

“Forgive me, Wolf. I got carried away,” he murmured.

“No, my lord. I – it was very pleasing.”

A tentative smile crossed Lord Kuro’s face.

“May I?” Wolf asked softly, eyes lingering on his lord’s neck.

Lord Kuro nodded, his scent heightening with desire, and Wolf pressed his face into the crook of his lord’s neck. He scent-marked him, deep and thorough, a silent promise of his return.

When he finally withdrew and departed, his lord’s scent lingered all over him.

* * *

Wolf disappeared from sight over the rooftops. Kuro’s heart pounded as he turned away from the window. He still couldn’t believe all that happened between them. He’d kissed Wolf, and his shinobi, his dear shinobi, had returned it!

Genichiro had spoken true. Wolf did desire Kuro, perhaps as much as Kuro desired Wolf. The scent-masking herbs that Wolf carried were old, no longer usable. Kuro could take in the full force of his scent, and oh gods, it was more than he could handle …

He shook his head, trying to clear it. That was difficult; Wolf’s scent covered him now, and it was all he could smell. Heat pooled in his core, making him ache.

Kuro shivered. He – he had to be careful. His heat cycle was only two weeks away. He needed to watch what he did, especially when his shinobi was around. 

But that was impossible! Kuro blushed to think of Wolf’s lips against his own, moving with a fervent want. He’d wanted Wolf to kiss him more, hold him tighter, use more strength …

“Lord Kuro?”

Kuro looked up with a start. Emma stood nearby, her face calmly neutral, though there was the hint of a smile on her face. “I spoke with Lord Isshin. He has given orders to have you released and put in charge of the castle. Lord Genichiro’s advisors are waiting for you. General Nobuharu is there as well.”

Kuro gathered his composure, turning his mind away from Wolf with much effort. “I’m grateful for his intervention.” Isshin wouldn’t have been able to do this while Genichiro was still here. The general’s power of command was too strong, and Isshin still ailed from his illness. But now, with Genichiro gone, Isshin was able to regain some command.

“I will go to them, then. Thank you, Lady Emma.” With that, Kuro strode to the shoji. He had work to do. He’d think of Wolf later when he was in the privacy of his room. Right now, he needed to distract himself and see to the castle’s affairs.

The guards outside his shoji were gone, sent away by Emma on Isshin’s orders. Kuro made his way to the council chamber; samurai and nobles stared at him as he passed by, and when he entered the chamber, the advisors all stood in surprise.

“Divine Heir! We heard of Lord Isshin’s decree – we were just about to send a guard to you.”

Kuro raised his hand and gestured for them to sit. He found Nobuharu among them, stationed near the head of the table. There were faint circles under his eyes, and his face looked somewhat sunken, but his gaze shone with relief as Kuro approached.

Kuro nodded at him. A lump formed in his throat, but he couldn’t lose composure here. They’d speak after the meeting.

He took his place at the head of the table, next to Genichiro’s vacant seat. His heart drummed rapidly as he faced the advisors; they were all experienced men, dressed in armour and robes, and gazing at him with a look that was almost critical. Save for Nobuharu, of course, who sat nearest to him, a source of stalwart strength.

Kuro squared his shoulders. He refused to be intimidated by Genichiro’s men. “First, I will remind you all that I was locked in my room by Lord Genichiro’s order. Therefore I wish to to be filled in on what I missed.”

And so they told him. The Ministry’s forces were pressing further into Ashina, and Ashina’s forces were dwindling still. If that wasn’t enough, a rogue shinobi was reported to have broken through the castle’s defences, slaughtering guards, Longswordsmen, and Nightjar along the way. He’d killed Oniwa Gyoubu Masataka along with many of Ashina’s Seven Spears.

Kuro kept his face blank, though his pulse quickened. Wolf wasn’t somebody to underestimate, that was for certain. He’d kill his way through ranks for a single purpose, leaving a blood-strewn path in his wake.

Wolf’s duty was that of every retainer. Kuro wasn’t oblivious to it. His late uncle did much the same for the sake of his people’s safety. Isshin had killed many during the coup to take back his land. And Genichiro … Everything he did was for Ashina.

Kuro only wished, deep in his heart, that there was another way.

The advisors soon turned to the battle plans. Kuro didn’t have as much experience with war as they did. He’d had lessons in court matters and politics, and even military affairs, but all that seemed insignificant with a true war before him. Fortunately, Nobuharu saved him from the embarrassment, guiding him along and offering council. 

By the time the meeting ended, Kuro’s brain felt overheated. He wondered whether there was any hope for Ashina at all. No plan of evacuation had been made; nearly all the advisors were against it.

Kuro sighed in frustration, though a part of him understood their thinking. He was in charge of Ashina for the time being, and that included Ashina’s pride. Genichiro’s men would rather die than abandon their homeland. None of them wanted to be seen as weak by the other clans, and especially by Tokugawa. 

Kuro understood that. And yet – _why_ did they have to be so stubborn? Did they not care about the clan’s people?

“Nobuharu,” he said, “come with me.”

They made their way to Kuro’s room. Once inside, Kuro turned to his general. “I am relieved to see that you are well. If I may ask … What did they do to you?”

A shadow fell over Nobuharu’s face. “Lord Genichiro sent his guards on me and locked me in the castle dungeons. He questioned me about your shinobi.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, but …” Nobuharu hesitated. “I heard him say that he’d have me moved to the abandoned dungeons.”

Kuro frowned. That didn’t make sense. Those dungeons were aptly named, for they were _abandoned._ Why would Genichiro move Nobuharu there?

“I worried for you, my lord,” Nobuharu said. “He only told me that you were safe in the castle, but I didn’t believe him. To think that he would lock you up …”

“He is gone now,” Kuro said reassuringly. “I doubt he’ll be back for a while.”

Nobuharu tilted his head at that. But Kuro didn’t want to talk of that right now. No, there was something else he had to address. 

“Nobuharu,” he began, “we are the last of Hirata. Your clan has long been a vassal to my uncle. I know I have nothing now, and I –”

A whirlwind of emotion rose within him. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to pledge service to another clan, or leave my side for any purpose at all.”

Nobuharu shook his head, a look of incredulity on his face. “No, my lord! I will not leave you. My family has always stood with Hirata. I would rather take my life than abandon your side.”

Kuro managed a trembling smile. “I am glad to have you with me, Nobuharu.”

“Not just myself,” Nobuharu replied, an odd gleam in his eyes. “I heard the shinobi returned.”

Kuro nodded. “I sent him on a mission. He will return in time. For now, I have something to ask of you.”

“What is it, my lord?”

“I don’t have as much knowledge in war as I’d like,” Kuro explained. “What knowledge I do have isn’t enough. Would you teach me?”

Nobuharu bowed. “Of course, my lord. And,” he added, “I can teach you certain war tactics.”

“What kind?” Kuro asked eagerly.

“You still have your jinkai, yes? I will teach you the signals to command an army.”

* * *

The Guardian Ape’s headless carcass lay on the floor, half-submerged in the pool. Wolf scowled as he carefully tucked the white lotus away. Fighting the Ape had been more trouble than he needed, and he prayed that it was truly dead this time.

Wolf sniffed and glanced down at his clothes. Disgusting. He’d dodged the Ape’s projectiles, though some stray flecks speckled his haori. He couldn’t return to his lord like this, reeking of refuse and whatever else.

Finding a clear space of water as far from the Ape as he could, Wolf stripped down and washed himself off, scrubbing his haori and scarf until he could no longer smell the Ape’s reek. Once he was satisfied, he grappled out of the pools and brought out his Homeward Idol.

Owl had given it to him when he was young. He’d used it only when he was too far from the Usui Clan and needed to return immediately.

Usui had been Wolf’s home back then. But it was not there that he needed to return to.

Wolf held the Idol up, his head bowed in prayer. _Take me to my lord._

The world disappeared in a blue mist, only to reappear in a quick moment. Wolf found himself standing in the tower lookout of Ashina Castle. By his estimate, his work had taken him most of the morning.

He hurried down the stairs and found Lord Kuro in the library, dusting off an empty display shelf. As Wolf watched, his lord held up a familiar object and set it on the shelf.

Wolf’s blood burned. It was the jinkai that Genichiro gifted him.

Lord Kuro paused, then turned around. His face split in a wide smile. “Wolf! You’re back!”

Wolf strode forward and gathered his lord in his arms, forgetting even to kneel first. The instinct to mark him, shield him, overtook all else, especially with Genichiro’s scent hanging over the jinkai. He buried his face against Lord Kuro’s neck, breathing deep, purring low as he felt Lord Kuro’s arms wrap around his shoulders. His lord sighed with content.

Wolf pulled back after a moment as though he’d burned himself – or his lord. “Forgive me,” he breathed, kneeling with his head bowed low. How could he make such a move without asking permission first? “I did not mean to –”

“Greet me?” Lord Kuro asked, putting his hands on his hips. “Wolf, I want it as much as you do!” He held out his hand. “Stand and come to me.”

Wolf stood slowly but didn’t immediately go to him. Lord Kuro’s brow furrowed. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” Wolf replied. “I only … I am your shinobi.”

“Yes,” his lord said. “But you are also my alpha, are you not?” Lord Kuro held out his arms. “Come here.”

Wolf came, and Lord Kuro kissed him with such eagerness that Wolf rose to return it. _My lord. My omega._ The heat of desire washed over him again, and he ached to pull Lord Kuro closer against him. _I am yours._

The kiss broke eventually. Lord Kuro offered a breathless smile. Wolf’s hands tightened around his lord’s back, wanting to caress, explore … 

Over his lord’s shoulder, the gleam of the jinkai’s shell caught his eye. The urge to ask about it was strong, but it wasn’t Wolf’s business to ask. It _wasn’t._

Lord Kuro followed his gaze. “Oh, that? Nobuharu was teaching me how to use it while you were gone.”

He glanced back at Wolf. Understanding crossed his face. “I would’ve used a different one, but there are none left in the armoury.”

A sliver of shame dug into Wolf’s chest. He may be his lord’s alpha, but that didn’t mean he had to interfere with his lord’s business.

Lord Kuro reached up and touched Wolf’s face. “I am sorry, Wolf,” he said softly. “I should have known that his scent would bother you.”

Wolf bowed his head, saying nothing, trying to sort out the tangle of instincts in himself, both alpha and shinobi.

His concentration broke when his lord leaned forward and pressed his lips to Wolf’s. His mouth moved slowly, sweet and soft, and Wolf’s heart calmed as he surrendered to the kiss.

A moment later, in the pause they took to catch their breath, Wolf brought out the white lotus. “I procured the flower for the fountainhead aroma.”

The flower’s petals held a pearly sheen, casting his lord’s face in soft light. Lord Kuro’s eyes lit up with awe as he gently touched one of the petals. “Was it truly blooming in the sunken valley?”

“Yes.”

“So the fountainhead waters do pool deeply there. You’ve done well to acquire this, Wolf.”

Wolf bowed his head, feeling a stir of pride at his lord’s praise.

“Oh, and actually,” Lord Kuro added, “I’ve found something. I discovered there’s another scent we must acquire.”

“What is it?”

“The blood of the Divine Heir of the Dragon’s Heritage. In other words, my blood.”

Wolf stared at him, uncomprehending. “Your blood … But my lord, you cannot bleed!”

“Yes, it is true that those of the Dragon’s Heritage cannot bleed. However, in Lord Genichiro’s quarters, I found a curious journal belonging to Lord Takeru’s page. And it appears there is a way for me to bleed. Here.”

Lord Kuro brought out said journal. Wolf took it, trying not to think about his lord moving through Genichiro’s bedroom.

Lord Kuro pointed out the journal entry:

_Lord Takeru held his arm over the incense burner and attempted to cut it with a sword. But incredibly, his wound healed instantly, and not a drop of blood was shed._

_Lady Tomoe said, “Without it, your blood cannot be spilt.”_

_What could she be referring to, I wonder?_

The last sentence echoed Wolf’s thoughts.

“Now then,” Lord Kuro mused. “We just need to figure out how to make me bleed …”

“Perhaps we should ask Lady Emma?” Wolf suggested, albeit reluctantly.

His lord hummed in thought. “As a doctor, she should have much knowledge of the human body. Yes, she may be able to help us.”

An uncomfortable weight settled in Wolf’s stomach. The mere act of asking how to make his lord bleed was unthinkable. But Lord Kuro required it, and so Wolf must do it.

“I will look for her, my lord. I will also begin my search for the Mortal Blade.”

Lord Kuro nodded. “Thank you, Wolf.”

Before Wolf departed, he held his lord one more time. Senpou Temple, where the Mortal Blade was, stood on Mt. Kongo. Wolf knew of a quick route through the abandoned dungeons, thanks to the stray whispers of Ashina’s guards, but who knew how long the entire journey would take?

“Be safe, my Wolf,” Lord Kuro murmured in his ear.

“I will.” And with that, Wolf left the castle with a heaviness upon his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, we got the flower down! Next up, the Mortal Blade ... and maybe another intimate scene or two XDDDDDD
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! <3


	14. Alpha and Omega

Wolf found Emma at the dilapidated temple and relayed Lord Kuro’s question.

“It is true that the Divine Heir’s blood cannot be shed by normal means,” she began. “However … With the Mortal Blade, you may wound him and allow his blood to flow.”

Wolf decided to go on ahead to find the Blade and return to his lord with the information. As much as it made his gut clench, Lord Kuro required the Blade’s sharpened edge, and Wolf would find it for him.

He thanked Emma and departed swiftly.

Ashina’s abandoned dungeons led Wolf straight to Senpou Temple, where a feminine voice spoke to him, emanating from a Buddha banner on the wall. Wolf wasn’t sure what to make of it, only that he would heed the voice’s warning and continue up the mountain.

He found more temples higher up, along with many warrior monks patrolling the paths. He cut down those who stood in his way and pressed onward, coming across a tall warrior dressed in European armour. He guarded the bridge that Wolf needed to cross. Wolf managed to push him off to his death and continued on.

The centipedes unnerved him, scattered about within the temples. Wolf avoided them where he could to save time. Every second spent here was a second lost with his lord. Wolf didn’t know what was happening to him back at Ashina Castle, and it gnawed at his mind with each passing moment.

The hours were late into the afternoon when he finally reached the Main Hall. The hall itself was spacious and empty save for large basins of incense. A robed monk sat in a corner, mumbling prayers to a Buddha statue. Wolf approached with caution.

A table stood nearby with a bell upon it. Wolf’s brow furrowed at that, but before he could inspect it, he caught the monk’s hoarse words.

“Child of the Rejuvenating Waters, forgive me! That child … She’s the only one left … She must be lonely, trapped in that room by herself … She must be so lonely …”

Wolf frowned. _Rejuvenating waters …_

“Hmm?” The monk stirred but didn’t turn or stand. Wolf kept one hand on Kusabimaru’s hilt. “You there, who are you? What business do you have with Senpou Temple?”

“I heard that a special holy person lives here,” Wolf replied, remembering the whispers he’d caught in Ashina Castle.

“Remarkably holy,” the monk agreed with a forlorn sigh. “That would be the child, I imagine. She’s not here anymore, though. It’s my fault … The child, she’s confined within the Inner Sanctum. It’s impossible to see her now.”

“I see.”

The monk stirred again. “Are you a shinobi?”

Wolf didn’t answer. The monk seemed to guess, in any case.

“Hmm … If that’s the case, then I have something to ask of you. The child wanted to know the reason for her fate. If you do see her by some chance, please give her this.” The monk’s shrivelled hand twitched toward a book, lying before him on the floor. “It’s the least I can do for my own atonement …”

“Alright.” Wolf picked up the book. The title read, _Holy Chapter: Infested._ The only question now was how to find the child.

“Is there something else?” the monk asked, likely wondering why Wolf still stood there. “This temple … it’s no longer a place where decent people should be.”

Wolf turned to leave, yet the monk drew in a sharp breath. “That smell … So you’re the one who works for the Divine Heir of the dragon’s blood.”

Wolf paused. “That’s right.”

“The Divine Heir is truly exalted,” the monk sighed. “But exalted or not, man is still man … Oh, I’m so foolish that I didn’t understand that myself. Don’t …” He wheezed. “Don’t leave your Divine Heir on his own.”

He exhaled slowly. “Go now. It’s too late to regret once you’ve already lost them.”

Wolf gazed at the monk for a moment, then turned away to the table. The bell gleamed in the candlelight, curiously polished despite the degradation of the hall around it.

He picked it up. It hummed in his hand with restless energy, growing as he raised it and gave it a single ring.

The sound cut through the silence of the Main Hall. Wolf closed his eyes; a gust of wind blew around him, and the reek of the Hall's decay disappeared, replaced with fresh air.

Wolf inhaled deeply and looked up to find himself in an open area. Up ahead, temples and towers surrounded a central courtyard, which was home to a blossoming tree.

Several feet from Wolf stood four folding screens. Three of them held the images of monkeys. Even as he realized this, a monkey wearing a purple kimono leapt onto the rail of the bridge just ahead. It shrieked upon seeing him and bounded off.

This place … It appeared to float on clouds. Water fell into one tower from above. Where was he? How was he to leave?

The monk in one of the open corridors gave him the answer. They stood in the Halls of Illusion, and the only way to leave was to defeat the monkeys depicted on the panels. Once Wolf did so, the Divine Child’s voice would reach him.

There were three monkeys: seeing, hearing, and speaking. Wolf set off once he’d gathered enough information. A flare of impatience burned low in his gut, rising each time a monkey evaded him. His lord was waiting for him, and Wolf wanted nothing more than to hurry back. He must return _soon._

His body was warm. He hadn’t given it much thought before, thinking it due to the exertion of his mission, but now it made his heart pound. 

This wasn’t right. It was too early.

He tried to ignore it and focused all his attention on completing the task at hand. Letting himself grow distracted wouldn’t do anything but slow himself down. 

And so he defeated all three monkeys … Even an invisible one, for he heard the soft patter of feet behind him, and thought of the empty fourth panel.

The moment he did so, a mist rose up to envelop him, and he soon found himself back in the hall entrance with the folding screens. All four monkeys now had their backs turned.

 _Please, forgive them,_ the feminine voice said, brushing against his ears. _They only sought to keep me hidden. However, it seems it was not meant to be._

_Close your eyes. Let us meet in the Inner Sanctum._

Wolf did as he was bid. Hopefully this would lead to the answers to his questions.

The Inner Sanctum was situated in a large glade, surrounded by clear water. A waterfall descended over the cliffs behind the Sanctum. Trees crowned in autumn leaves lined the glade.

Wolf hurried over to the Sanctum’s entrance, breathing heavily from the journey and his own anticipation. This had to be his destination.

Inside was a warm, modest hall. At the far end sat a girl around Lord Kuro’s age, perhaps a little younger. Behind her was an altar filled with lit candles, and from the ceiling hung bells and prayers.

Wolf approached the girl with measured steps. She wore a white robe, and her dark hair was tied back loosely. She watched as he halted before her; her dark eyes gleamed with wariness.

He sniffed and was met with an off-putting scent. Not that it wasn’t pleasant, but it was … odd. At the base, it was a beta’s smell, but mixed with that of an omega, and forcefully at that.

The Divine Child’s clear voice drew Wolf from his thoughts. “Why do you seek this place?”

“I’m looking for the Mortal Blade,” he replied.

She stiffened. “The Blade that cannot be drawn?”

“Yes.”

“It is so-called,” she said, “for not one who has drawn it has ever survived. Yet you still wish to attempt this?”

“I do,” Wolf said with certainty.

The Divine Child gazed at him for several heartbeats, sizing him up. Then her shoulders sagged somewhat. “Very well.”

She brought forth a long, wooden box, and removed the lid. Inside was an odachi blade sheathed in a red scabbard. As Wolf looked at it, he heard a quiet hum emanating from the odachi, soft as a breath.

Resignation lined the Divine Child’s soft words. “If you are prepared, you may gaze upon the Blade.”

Wolf carefully took up the Blade and drew it halfway.

A sudden fist seized his heart, his lungs, stopping his breath completely. The last thing he knew was the Divine Child’s saddened face before all went dark.

*

*

*

Life returned to him in a flush of pink light. Wolf breathed deep, filling his lungs with air. His lord’s sakura scent followed the petals that danced over his form.

The Divine Child gasped as he rose to his feet. “Your eye,” she breathed. “You carry the curse of the Dragon’s Heritage!”

The odachi was still in his hold. “The Mortal Blade,” Wolf declared, unsheathing it completely. “Without question, I accept its power.”

The Mortal Blade gleamed in the candlelight. Red mist curled from its sharpened blade. Wolf felt a contained power trembling through it, tingling in his hand. He sheathed the Blade and strapped it to his back. Lord Kuro would be pleased.

The Divine Child searched his face with wary interest. “I see you serve the Divine Heir of the Dragon’s Heritage.”

Wolf nodded.

“Why do you seek the Mortal Blade?”

“I wish to obtain the dragon tears from the divine realm,” he explained. “To sever the ties of immortality.”

“I have read that there is a way to sever the Dragon’s Heritage.” The Divine Child’s gaze grew distant. “So the Divine Heir begrudges his power,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “How strange fate can be.”

She paused for a moment, then said, “I am one of the children of the Rejuvenating Waters, created by those who would stop at nothing to achieve immortality. My false dragon’s blood was made by man.”

“Children,” Wolf repeated. “So there are many of you?”

“I am the only one who survived the process,” the Divine Child said quietly. “The others are laid to rest here.”

A shadow of grief passed over her face. Wolf remained quiet, not sure how to respond.

“I do not know if it is right to sever the ties of immortality,” she continued. “But the Dragon’s Heritage undeniably corrupts the lives of men. And I share the Heir’s feelings about that truth.” She appeared to consider something carefully before drawing herself up to face him fully. “Shinobi of the Divine Heir,” she declared, “I have decided to assist you. Please hold out your hand.”

Wolf did as she asked, both curious and wary, and she dipped her hands into his. “Bless us with a bountiful harvest.”

Something white glittered in her palms, and all at once, a flurry of rice fell into his cupped hands. Wolf stared in amazement; the Divine Child brought out a pouch, and he poured the rice into it.

“Rice is a precious thing,” she said as he tied the pouch at his waist. “It tastes better the more you eat it, and restores one’s vigour.”

“Thank you,” Wolf murmured. A thought crossed his mind. “In fact, I have something for you as well.”

He brought out the book from the monk in Senpou Temple. The Divine Child took it, passing a pale hand over the worn cover. “What is this?”

“I was told to give this to you.”

“Thank you. I will accept it.”

She opened the book and began to read. Wolf’s brow furrowed in concern as her hands shook. Her lips pressed into a thin line as though to withhold a sob.

“What is it?” Wolf asked.

“I … I still …” She sighed heavily, squeezing her eyes shut. “I still cannot help but detest them,” she whispered.

Wolf frowned. What had happened to her? Her odd scent, her false dragon’s blood … How had she come to be this way?

She closed the book and set it aside. Her smile trembled a little, but it was still warm upon him. “Shinobi of the Divine Heir, you are welcome to rest here for a moment, if you wish.”

Wolf hesitated. He could use the rest, but his lord was waiting for him. He couldn’t afford to lose another minute!

The Divine Child sniffed and tilted her head a little. “I think it would do you well to rest. You have come a long way, I am sure, and the evening is nearly upon us. You may wash in the pools, as well. The water is naturally warm.”

Against his instincts, Wolf decided to take her offer. What use would he be to Lord Kuro if he returned as the bloody, dirt-stained mess he was now?

* * *

The Divine Child showed the shinobi to his guest room. He seemed content with it and thanked her for her hospitality, and she was glad.

What a curious sort he was. Tall and quiet, and rather stoic of face. His alpha scent was a mix of earthiness and sakura, though she could tell that something was changing with him. His scent was quite musky.

The monks had paid much attention to scents during their experiments, enough that the Divine Child knew what certain scent-changes meant. If she remembered their information and whispers correctly, this shinobi neared a _cycle._

She was not particularly sure on the effects of cycles, but she knew that they weren’t very comfortable. The shinobi would’ve left without a second thought, but the Divine Child couldn’t have that for her guest. No, this shinobi needed a good bath and a few hours of sleep at the very least. Something to ease his cycle. She smiled with satisfaction as he departed to use the pools behind the Inner Sanctum. The waters would surely do him some good.

And there was something else … She felt oddly light, as though a bit of weight had left her shoulders. The Mortal Blade was gone from her hold, and she now had a new acquaintance. She had no doubt that he was worthy to wield the Blade, especially since he was using it to sever immortality’s ties.

And it was rather … pleasant to meet someone new. She had not received a guest for so long. She was always alone in the Sanctum, save for her dear siblings.

Even now she could hear echoes of their conversation as they spoke of the shinobi, wondering about him, eager to see him again. 

“Should we make a meal for him?” she asked them.

Oh, yes, they said. He looked as though he hadn’t eaten for ages!

By the time the shinobi returned, the Divine Child was waiting for him with a steaming bowl of rice and cooked vegetables. “I thought you might like something to eat,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said, and she knew from his shifting scent that he was quite hungry.

The muskiness hadn’t lessened, though. She took another sniff of him, as imperceptibly as she could. His scent lay thick in the air, heady with notes that made her stomach flop. If anything, it had gotten muskier.

The shinobi wanted something. She could sense that much. This was not good timing for his journey … And cycles lasted a week or so, if she was correct.

Something told her he wouldn’t wait that long.

“What is your name?” she asked.

The shinobi looked up from laying his hoari out to dry. The furrow between his brows deepened. “I am called Wolf,” he said after a moment.

A starving wolf, her siblings mused. And one-armed, too!

“May I ask yours?” the shinobi said.

The Divine Child blinked. No one had ever asked her that question for as long as she could remember. “I … I do not remember mine.”

Wolf’s gaze softened. 

It had been so long ago. None of the monks had called her by name, nor with her late siblings. Her heart ached to think that she once had a name. If only she could bring it to mind … 

Oh, but she was taking up too much of her guest’s time. 

“Have a good rest,” she said. “You are free to come to me if you need anything.”

Wolf bowed his head. “I will remember to do so.”

It was not even an hour later when the shinobi appeared in the Sanctum’s hall, eyes glazed over in a way that startled the Divine Child. Was this the cycle’s effect? She did not expect it to happen so fast!

“I must go,” Wolf said, his voice underlined with a rumble. “Forgive me.”

“There is no need,” the Divine Child said quickly. “Be safe. You are welcome here anytime!”

Wolf nodded to her and dashed out of the hall into the evening moonlight.

Would they see him again, her siblings wondered.

She dearly hoped so.

* * *

He must return to his lord. 

That was all he could think of as he took out his Homeward Idol and allowed its power to envelop him, sending him back to Ashina Castle. Wolf hurried down the lookout’s stairs and entered Lord Kuro’s room, searching frantically for him. Where was he?

His body burned with such need that he wanted to roar aloud.

A soft rustle of cloth caught his attention. Wolf strode into the library, stalking past shelf after shelf, nostrils flared for the aroma of his lord.

And then he halted, struck dumb with a mixture of shock, alarm, and desire.

Lord Kuro knelt beside a shelf, one hand braced on the floor for balance, the other clutched to his midriff. He wore only a white yukata, and his dark hair hung low around his face. And his scent … Oh, gods, his _scent._ Wolf’s cock swelled in his hakama, aching with a need that spread throughout his body. His lord’s aroma curled in the air, thick with an omega’s heat. A thin layer of sweat shone upon his bare skin.

Wolf _wanted_ him.

Lord Kuro stirred, drawing in an unsteady breath, and looked up. Wolf moved closer, caught in the gaze of those brown eyes.

“Wolf,” his lord whispered. “Help me.”

Wolf froze at the sound of Lord Kuro’s weakened voice. “I –”

Lord Kuro attempted to push himself up, but Wolf saw at once that his feet would fail him. He moved forward swiftly and caught his lord around the waist, cradling him to his chest and lifting him up. Lord Kuro wrapped his arms around Wolf’s shoulders, holding tight.

“My lord, what happened to you?” Wolf breathed. He forced himself to stay focused, holding his breath as he brought Lord Kuro out of the library.

“My – my heat,” his lord gasped, stumbling over his feet. Wolf kept him upright; he could feel his lord’s firm chest through his yukata. “It came early. I-I don’t know why …”

Wolf slid the shoji open to Lord Kuro’s bedroom. The sakura scent filled this room; Wolf took a quick breath and grit his teeth, trying not to groan. He’d help Lord Kuro to lie down, bring a basin of water to clean the sweat from his skin, and then summon the servants –

Instead, he just stood there, holding his lord to him, face pressed against his lord’s neck. His legs wouldn’t move. His arms refused to release Lord Kuro.

“Wolf,” Lord Kuro breathed, his breath gusting over Wolf’s neck. “My alpha …”

Wolf growled, filling his lungs with Lord Kuro’s scent. Why should he let go of him? His lord, his omega … He was _Wolf’s,_ was he not?

 _No,_ another voice shouted in his mind. No, this was _not –_

“My lord,” he rasped. “I shouldn’t be here. My rut – I didn’t realize –”

Lord Kuro’s arms tightened around his shoulders. “Don’t go,” he whispered, quieter than a breath. “Don’t leave me.”

Wolf’s heart twisted. “My lord, if I stay, I will only be a danger. I – I can’t – I have to –”

His body was going to burst, he was sure of it. His lord was here, in his arms, wanting him. But he couldn’t do this. He wasn’t worthy, he was only a shinobi …

“My Wolf,” Lord Kuro murmured, eyes bright and glazed from his heat, but full of awareness. “What will you do?”

“I –” Wolf’s voice caught in his throat. “I must have you. I have to. I _need_ to.”

He couldn’t even feel shame from admitting it. His need encompassed everything, and it was all he could do to keep a small piece of his mind focused on the shoji. He had to leave before he succumbed, taking his lord before the latter said anything –

“I want you,” Lord Kuro said softly. He pressed his cheek to Wolf’s, breathing in Wolf’s scent. “I want to be yours completely.”

“My lord, you don’t know what you ask of me,” Wolf said raggedly. “You are in heat.”

“I know.”

“I am in rut.”

“I know.”

“If I hurt you –”

“You won’t,” his lord said. “I know you won’t. I trust you.”

Wolf’s arms trembled around Lord Kuro. He was losing time and control. He couldn’t contain himself for much longer.

“Wolf,” Lord Kuro whispered. “I don’t want to force you. If you don’t want this –”

Wolf reached behind him and slid the shoji closed. His gaze bored into Lord Kuro’s as his hold tightened around him. “I want you. My omega.”

Kuro said nothing more. He kissed Wolf hungrily, pulling them tight together, but his strength was no match for Wolf’s.

Wolf drew him down onto the futon and set to work stripping his omega of clothes. Kuro gasped as Wolf tossed his yukata away, and Wolf took the opportunity to gaze upon his omega’s body. His skin was pale in the thin moonbeams that streamed through the shuttered window’s cracks. Wolf’s gaze trailed down his omega’s stomach, onto the glistening wetness that seeped between his toned thighs. _Beautiful._

A rumble sounded in Wolf’s throat as he stripped himself. The cold night air did nothing to abate the unbearable heat under his skin.

His prosthetic made him hesitate for a split second; would it make his omega uncomfortable? And yet, two hands were better than one to provide pleasure. Wolf reattached it to his bandaged stump, making sure there were no shinobi tools within. He didn’t want any interruptions, _least_ of all from a loose firecracker.

He was on Kuro without a second thought, kissing him fervently while his hands cupped his omega’s legs, hitching them around his waist.

Then he slid his right hand between Kuro’s thighs, dipping his fingers into his omega’s wetness, stroking the soft folds.

Kuro mewled against his mouth, bucking his hips against Wolf’s hand. “Ahh … oh, alpha,” he panted as Wolf sucked at the sensitive spot on his neck. “More …”

“Yes,” Wolf purred against his omega’s skin, _“my lord.”_

He pushed his fingers in deeper, widening Kuro’s cunt. Kuro mewled louder, desperate, and the sound was pure music to Wolf’s ears.

 _“Ahh_ – more,” Kuro whined. “Please, Wolf, _faster …_ ”

Wolf quickened his strokes, taking Kuro’s hardened cock in his prosthetic hand, mouth latching onto one of Kuro’s nipples. Kuro writhed under him, moaning Wolf’s name, and then his walls squeezed down on Wolf’s fingers and a broken cry escaped his throat.

Kuro came with more force than Wolf expected, spilling his seed over Wolf’s prosthetic. Slick from his omega’s cunt flowed over his flesh hand, and Wolf growled with pleasure to feel his omega shiver around him.

He licked his hands clean of Kuro’s slick. His omega tasted sweet, as fresh and clean as a mountain spring, and Wolf hungered for him, _all_ of him. He wanted _more._

He leaned down and pressed his face between Kuro’s thighs, bracing his omega’s legs to keep them parted, pushing his tongue into his omega’s opening.

Kuro moaned insistently, breaths trembling throughout his body. _“Ohh_ … hnng, alpha – yes, _yes … ahhh!”_

Wolf swallowed Kuro’s flowing slick as his omega came again, thighs shuddering against Wolf’s face. Kuro’s lusty wail caressed his ears, making him dizzy with desire. He looked up at his omega from between his thighs; Kuro’s face shone with sweat, and his eyelids fluttered as his ecstasy ebbed. His lips parted open as he panted, chest heaving, and the sight was enough to drive Wolf mad.

“My omega,” he growled, moving up to cover Kuro completely, swallowing his mewls as he kissed him feverishly. Kuro’s hands clawed over his back, the sting of his nails blurring with the burning pleasure in Wolf’s core.

His swollen cock rubbed against Kuro’s entrance, the knot engorged and raw.

“Mmmf,” Kuro grunted, breaking from the kiss with a gasp. “Wolf – _ohhh …”_

Wolf pushed the head of his cock against Kuro’s folds, easing himself in. His omega’s heat burned, and it was all he could do to not impale his omega in one whole thrust.

Oh gods, how he _wanted_ to … Every instinct screamed for him to take Kuro, to rut him into the futon. Wolf pushed deeper, groaning with need. Kuro whimpered, building into a cry. “Ahh – Wolf, you’re – too _big_ –”

His knot swelled further, trapping him before he was even halfway in. Wolf growled with impatience, gripped Kuro’s hips, and thrust forward. His knot pushed through, driving him halfway into his omega’s delicious, wet heat.

Kuro wailed, writhing under him, grasping his shoulders with the grip that would surely leave bruises. “Alpha – _ahhh,_ t-too big – ohh, _please …”_

 _“Yes,”_ Wolf rumbled in Kuro’s ear. His omega was so soft. So _tight._ He thrust again, and again, faster and faster until Kuro’s words became an endless stream of meaningless babble, mingled with uncontrolled moans.

“Sweet Kuro,” Wolf groaned, his mind awhirl with a building ecstasy, his thrusts building with an erratic rhythm. “Sweet lord.”

Kuro met his thrusts with rocking hips, and Wolf abruptly hit a spot that made him see stars. His cock was going to explode, his knot throbbing with painful pleasure, he couldn’t hold it any longer –

His omega’s walls clamped down on Wolf’s sheathed cock so tight that his head buzzed. “Kuro,” he gasped, caught in a wave of such pleasure that he couldn’t even breathe.

And then his knot burst with such force that Wolf shuddered violently. Out of instinct, he bore down hard on his omega, spilling his seed in hot bursts, balls rubbing against his omega’s inner thighs. Kuro whined as Wolf knotted him, locking them together, his face flushed with bliss.

In the midst of his haze, Wolf fixed his sight on Kuro’s neck and clamped his teeth upon the sensitive flesh.

All at once, his pleasure peaked, taking hold of him as he tasted his omega’s blood. Kuro gasped, tightening his hold around Wolf.

 _Mine,_ Wolf thought dazedly. _My lord. My omega._

_My Kuro._

As if in response, Kuro pressed against him and bit down on the flesh of Wolf’s neck. Wolf moaned low, riding out the throes of his pleasure with heaving breaths. The full scent of their love-making and mating rose into the air, enveloping them.

They both sagged as one, gasping and panting from the mingled bliss and exertion. Wolf still had energy left for another round, but he sensed the exhaustion creeping over Kuro. That was no problem. Wolf could wait.

He lay his head down on his omega’s chest, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. Kuro’s hands curled tenderly around him, undoing his topknot and stroking his hair away from his face. Eventually, his hands stilled as he fell asleep, his breathing slow and shallow.

Carefully, Wolf drew himself out of Kuro and set to work in cleaning him up. He cracked open the window’s shutters, letting in some cool air, then returned to the futon and lay down at Kuro’s side. A wave of content washed over him as he drew his omega into his arms.

 _Rest well, my Kuro,_ he thought, his smile visible in the moonlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp I haven't written such juiciness for years, so feel free to give me feedback lmaoo
> 
> Aaaand I've finally caught myself up in chapter buffers! The next chapter isn't finished yet, and tbh real life is stressing me out a bit, so the next update might take a little longer than usual.  
> But I'm still going to finish this fic! I won't leave you guys hanging loll
> 
> Honestly though, if you find that I'm taking WAY too long to update, feel free to yell at me XDD Y'all keep my motivation going :''''')
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! <333


	15. An Unexpected Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, looks like I was able to post on schedule after all! Next chapter is turning out to be one of those longer ones, but I'll keep it intact for you guys instead of splitting it XDD

Wolf awoke to the sound of his lord’s soft voice.

His senses sharpened upon realizing that Lord Kuro was not at his side. Sunlight streamed through the crack in the window shutters, falling upon the shoji. His lord crouched there, murmuring to somebody on the other side.

Wolf strained his ears and caught the sound of Emma’s delicate voice. He relaxed somewhat but kept his eye on Lord Kuro.

“If he meets any resistance,” he said, “tell them that he acts on my orders.”

“I will,” Emma promised.

His lord thanked Emma and stood, returning to the futon on light feet. Likewise, Emma’s padded footsteps faded away as she left the main room.

Wolf’s gaze roved over his lord’s body. He was truly beautiful, pale as porcelain, his muscles well-toned from training. The previous night’s mating remained with perfect clarity in Wolf’s mind, and his cock stiffened as Lord Kuro settled beside him. His lord smiled and kissed him, his energy evidently renewed from his rest. 

Wolf kissed him back, hands roaming his lord’s waist. Before he knew it, his rut came upon him at full force, and Wolf wrapped his arms around his omega with a low, eager growl.

In those temporary moments when their rut and heat eased, Wolf took the time to learn Lord Kuro’s body, memorizing each curve and plane, finding which spots pleased his lord the most. Lord Kuro luxuriated under his touch, even that of his prosthetic hand.

It would take a week at the very least before their cycles ended. Wolf planned to use that time well.

It seemed that Lord Kuro desired the same.

Wolf crooned as his lord touched him, running his hands over Wolf’s torso and stomach, brushing over his nipples. When Lord Kuro slid his palms over Wolf’s thighs, Wolf rumbled with content, his cock pulsing with warmth.

Lord Kuro gazed at him with admiration and awe, and no small amount of pleasure. “You are so strong, my Wolf,” he said, cupping a hand around Wolf’s buttocks. “I wish I was the same.”

Wolf sat up and pulled his lord onto his lap. “You are strong already, Lord Kuro,” he purred.

A small, mischievous smile touched his lord’s lovely lips. “Not strong enough to hold you down.”

“Is that what you desire, my lord?” Wolf asked, arching an eyebrow in amusement. 

Lord Kuro flushed pink. His hand travelled down Wolf’s bicep. “We have never duelled each other before, you know.”

Wolf pressed a kiss to his lord’s neck, right over the mating mark. “Shall we do so now, my lord?”

Lord Kuro moaned softly. “You are trying to distract me already,” he said breathlessly.

“Not at all, my lord,” Wolf chuckled. 

“I will take your offer. I won’t get this opportunity until our next cycle, after all. You are always so proper – _ahh!”_

Wolf sucked hard on his lord’s mating mark. Lord Kuro trembled in his arms, panting. He drew back to look at Wolf, and before Wolf could say anything, his lord pushed him back onto the futon.

Wolf tensed with excitement. Lord Kuro held his wrists down on either side of his head; gathering his strength, Wolf pushed against his lord’s hold, lifting his arms off the futon. Lord Kuro grunted as he strained to match Wolf’s force, eyes shining with eagerness.

To see his lord so full of mirth and joy was enough to lift Wolf’s spirits to the highest. If he had his way, he’d take them far from this place, to a peaceful land where his lord could be happy. 

For now, though, here was something he could do to please his lord.

Wolf sat up abruptly, thinking to grab Lord Kuro and take him – with his rut still in a lull! – but his lord swiftly ducked to the side, dancing out of reach.

A grin spread over Wolf’s face, stretching muscles that hadn’t been used in a long time. He stood up, displaying himself fully for his lord’s eyes, and circled his opponent. Lord Kuro did the same, his lithe body gleaming in the sunlight.

Wolf lunged – not with his full strength, for that would be unfair. Lord Kuro barely had time to dodge, but he did, fingers brushing against Wolf’s thigh as he did so. Wolf growled softly at the tease. His cock tightened, twitching.

“You cannot evade me forever,” he said, low and rumbling.

Lord Kuro visibly shivered at the sound of his voice. “You are too quick for me,” he said. “And too strong. This is as much as I can do.”

Wolf attacked again, this time from the side. Lord Kuro leapt over him and backed away, breathing heavily. “Is it so hard for the wolf to catch his dragon?”

“It is best not to taunt him,” Wolf said softly.

And then he dashed forward with his full speed.

He could see the moment when Lord Kuro would duck to the side. Wolf aimed for his legs this time and caught his lord in a tight hold, pulling him against his chest.

“There now,” Wolf growled against his lord’s neck. “I have caught you, my dragon. Now you cannot fly away.”

Lord Kuro laughed breathlessly and nuzzled Wolf’s cheek. “Do not fear, my Wolf. I will never fly without you.”

* * *

Kuro and Wolf spent all their time together over the next few days. Sometimes Kuro thought he was in a dream; he’d never felt this peaceful in years. Throughout the day, whenever their cycles peaked, Wolf knotted them together and filled Kuro with such ecstasy that he forgot where he was. There was only Wolf, surrounding him with his body and scent, groaning helplessly as he shuddered through his pleasure.

In the quiet hours of the morning, his shinobi slept deeply. Kuro watched him for a moment, lightly tracing Wolf’s face with his fingers, learning the curve of his cheekbone, the edge of his jaw. Whenever Wolf shifted restlessly, reaching for Kuro while still asleep, Kuro calmed him with a kiss to his brow.

When he pulled back, he saw that Wolf’s eyes were half-open. His shinobi reached up to stroke Kuro’s waist, sending a pleasant tingle over Kuro’s skin. Wolf rendered him helpless so easily, leaning over him, thrusting into him … As much as Kuro enjoyed it, what would it be like to be in control of his alpha?

In a rush of boldness brought on by his lingering heat, Kuro slowly trailed kisses from Wolf’s neck to his chest, moving across his stomach and finally coming to the base of his cock. Kuro swallowed; his shinobi was _big,_ apparently usual for alphas. Nevertheless, it was something else entirely to see it in full.

At the moment, Wolf’s knot was lax. Kuro pressed his lips to the head, placing small licks here and there. Wolf stirred, his muscled thighs shifting wider on either side of Kuro.

“My lord,” he mumbled.

Kuro opened his mouth wider, taking as much of the head as he could, which was not much. He settled for rubbing his tongue against Wolf’s sensitive flesh, pushing against the slit. His shinobi tasted sweet and earthy. Kuro gently dragged his teeth up along the length, and his shinobi’s cock hardened to iron within seconds.

Wolf moaned, bucking his hips against Kuro’s mouth. “My lord,” he panted again, groping for him. Kuro’s heart beat wildly as he placed his weight on Wolf’s legs, hoping to hold him down for a little longer. His hands cupped Wolf’s balls, kneading firmly. The heavy sacs filled his palms near perfectly.

Wolf’s cock now swelled, growing long and thick, flushed dark with heat. The knot engorged, and Kuro’s mouth watered at the sight. His alpha was so … so …

He sucked on Wolf’s knot, and his shinobi emitted a sound not unlike the lowing of cattle. The thought made Kuro smile uncontrollably as he tongued Wolf’s slit again. Perhaps he could taste more of his shinobi’s seed; Wolf had certainly tasted his slick many times already. Wolf’s cock twitched under his lips, and Kuro was certain he would come soon …

An early drop of seed dribbled from the slit, and Kuro eagerly lapped it up. It tasted earthy and clean.

“My lord,” his shinobi gasped, face flushed and shining with sweat. “Wait.”

Kuro paused and looked up, surprised. “What is it?”

“Come here.”

Kuro obeyed, straddling Wolf’s legs. Wolf held him by his waist, positioning him over his cock, breathing heavily. Kuro understood, and he impaled himself on Wolf, bearing down as hard as he could. A howl shattered through his chest as his shinobi’s cock filled him, searing his walls with such bliss that he would’ve fallen over if not for Wolf’s firm hold.

“Ahh – Wolf, I – _ahhh!”_ His walls trembled around his shinobi, squeezing hard. How could Wolf manage to fit? 

Wolf grunted with each thrust, face buried in Kuro’s shoulder as Kuro rode him with all his might. His shinobi’s thighs were stiff under him; every part of Wolf was stiff, his muscles hard and warm. It was enough to make his stomach leap with giddiness.

Kuro cried out as Wolf grasped his cock, stroking roughly. He broke open almost immediately, collapsing in his shinobi’s arms as his pleasure crashed through him. Wolf’s knot swelled to its full size, locking them together, and Kuro moaned as Wolf’s hot seed filled him to the brim.

Wolf gripped Kuro’s buttocks, squeezing hard enough that Kuro whined, wriggling on his shinobi’s lap. It was all for show, of course; he couldn’t escape Wolf’s grip, nor did he ever want to.

The sounds of their panting filled the bedroom as they gradually calmed.

“I wanted to taste you,” Kuro mourned, mumbling against Wolf’s white temple.

“I know,” Wolf said hoarsely. “I wanted you to. But it would’ve been too much for you to swallow.”

Perhaps it was true. His shinobi always had a lot to give, more than Kuro expected.

“After my rut,” Wolf promised, dragging his lips over the mark on Kuro’s neck. “I won’t have as much to give. You can take me then.”

“Alright. I will hold you to that,” Kuro said, smiling.

Wolf tilted his head to kiss Kuro, and they lost themselves in their embrace.

Emma brought a basin of fresh water and a few towels each morning, leaving them outside the shoji. With it came news from the castle’s council chamber.

Kuro felt a stirring of pride each time Emma told him of Nobuharu’s efforts. He was an experienced general, and he knew of Kuro’s wishes. So far he was doing well as Kuro’s voice. Kuro had every faith in him.

It was a wonder even to himself that he still had enough mind to take in the castle’s events. If he were anywhere else, he might just give in to his heat and let it move him, bringing him back to Wolf each time he moved away to the shoji. But if he did that, who would bring in the basin of water and the supplies to cook rice after Emma left?

Wolf moved closer as Kuro laid the basin next to the futon. Then he took up the towel, soaked it, and proceeded to wash Kuro’s back. It was part of an alpha’s instinct to care for their omega first, even if their omega wished to care for the alpha.

Kuro sighed with content, leaning his head against Wolf’s shoulder. Wolf cleaned him with slow, sure strokes. After a moment, Kuro took up a second towel to do the same to his shinobi.

Pale scars crossed Wolf’s body, especially his back. Kuro’s heart ached to see those marks, reminders of past skirmishes and battles. What was the history behind each scar?

Once they finished washing each other, Kuro set to work in cooking their meal. The pouch of rice from the Divine Child rested next to his leg, now empty. “You will tell me about her afterwards?” Kuro asked. Neither of them were in a state to think of anything else for long, but Kuro still had enough presence of mind to feel gratitude to Wolf’s benefactor.

The Divine Child. What a curious name. What was she like? Where did Wolf find her?

“I will, my lord.” His shinobi nuzzled against the nape of his neck, and Kuro shivered. The nutty aroma of cooking rice filled the room, and once it was ready, they devoured it within minutes. The rice was sweeter than Kuro expected, settling comfortably in his stomach. And … instead of making him drowsy, as he thought it would, he felt … invigorated.

He glanced at Wolf to find his shinobi gazing at him intensely. His alpha scent spiked with an aching want that set Kuro’s core aflame.

He soon found himself lying under his alpha, moaning Wolf’s name as they were knotted together once more.

* * *

On the seventh day, Wolf awoke to find Lord Kuro’s head upon his chest, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow.

A soothing warmth spread through Wolf’s chest at the sight. Lord Kuro looked so peaceful, so lovely … Wolf was blessed with a gift that he did not deserve, yet the gods had seen fit to choose him. He reached up with his prosthetic hand to caress his lord’s flank – and then stopped.

Wolf blinked. They were both naked, half-covered in sheets. His face warmed to see his lord’s nudity, and that was when he realized: his mind and body were clear of rut.

Part of him wondered why he should be embarrassed at all. Every moment spent during the past week settled in Wolf’s memory, full of perfect clarity; had he not touched every inch of his lord? Even now he could hear Lord Kuro’s moans, taste his lord’s slick on his tongue, feel his lord’s hands tightening on his shoulders …

A shiver passed through him. Thinking this during his rut was one thing, but doing so outside of his cycle was something else! He was still the shinobi of a lord, and that meant following propriety.

Yet Wolf’s body refused to budge. Lord Kuro’s legs entwined with his own, sharing heat, and Wolf was loath to move away. 

Lord Kuro stirred, slowly reaching up to hide a yawn behind his hand. He blinked blurrily and looked up, and a smile spread across his face. “Good morning, Wolf.”

“My lord,” Wolf replied. “I –”

Lord Kuro’s mating mark lay clear on his skin. Wolf swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying to speak, but he didn’t know what to say.

His lord was now his mate. His omega. His own alpha scent lingered over Lord Kuro, curling around his body and mixing with his sakura aroma. If anybody smelled his lord’s scent, they would know.

Whether or not they knew it was Wolf’s scent didn’t matter. They would know that it was not Genichiro’s, and that was the only knowledge they needed.

What had he done to his lord?

Lord Kuro frowned as he gazed up at Wolf. It was then that Wolf realized the change in his own scent – a sharp tang cutting through the mingling smell of love-making.

His lord propped himself up on an elbow, leaning over Wolf. His dark hair, streaked with grey, brushed against Wolf’s cheek with silky softness.

“I do not regret it,” Lord Kuro said quietly. His eyes shone with such warmth and certainty that Wolf shuddered, aching to hold his lord again.

He was a damned man. Damned, and blessed. Where did one begin and the other end?

“Wolf,” his lord said, quieter than a breath. “Do you?”

“I regret only what this will do to you, my lord,” Wolf murmured. “This castle is filled with Genichiro’s men. If – when they realize what I’ve done to you … It will mean nothing good for you.”

“Perhaps,” Lord Kuro allowed. “But your scent is getting closer to mine now. Perhaps it is because you are my oathbound. Haven’t you noticed it?”

Wolf had, indeed. “But is it enough?”

“I believe it will be,” his lord replied. “And if not, there is nothing they can do about it. Not until Lord Genichiro returns, that is.”

Wolf growled softly before he could stop himself. “I will not let any of them touch you, my lord.”

Lord Kuro smiled, reaching up to smooth Wolf’s hair from his face. His fingers rested against Wolf’s temple where the white mark of his Heritage shone clear.

“I will be alright, my Wolf. I have Lord Isshin’s protection, not to mention Lady Emma and Nobuharu at my side.”

The furrow between Wolf’s brows deepened. Isshin was lord of Ashina, yet he was still ailing. It was only a matter of time before he succumbed, and what then?

Lord Kuro leaned down and pressed a kiss to Wolf’s brow. “Come, my shinobi. There is still much to do.”

Their mingling scents hung in the air as they got washed and dressed for the day. Wolf took it upon himself to clean his lord, breathing in his sweet scent all the while. Lord Kuro offered to help Wolf with his own belongings; in the end, Wolf allowed him to tie his hair in a topknot. A soft purr rumbled in his chest as Lord Kuro’s fingers combed through his hair and massaged his scalp.

Once his lord finished, Wolf faced him. The mating mark on his neck hid behind the neckline of Lord Kuro’s kimono. For a moment, Wolf wanted to run his tongue over the mark and hear Lord Kuro whisper his name …

But this was _not_ the time. He had his mission to complete. With that in mind, he reached for his weapons.

Lord Kuro sucked in a sharp breath as Wolf strapped the Mortal Blade onto his back. “Wolf … Is that the blade that can kill those who cannot die?”

“Yes. It was given to me by the Divine Child of the Rejuvenating Waters at Senpou Temple.”

“The Divine Child,” Lord Kuro murmured to himself.

“The monks at Senpou Temple abandoned the ways of their faith in pursuit of immortality,” Wolf explained. “The result is those who have false Dragon’s Heritage known as the Divine Children of the Rejuvenating Waters.”

“A false Dragon’s Heritage …” Lord Kuro passed a thoughtful hand over his jaw, eyes distant. “I never would have thought. Wait – Divine … Children?”

“Many were created, but only one survived.”

Lord Kuro sighed heavily. “Further proof of the corruption this power brings to man. The ties of immortality must be severed.”

He refocused on Wolf with a determined look. “I have something to show you, Wolf. Come with me.”

It was as though the past week hadn’t happened, and yet – it _had_ happened. Wolf knew it. He remembered everything. And he knew Lord Kuro remembered too.

There would be another time to embrace each other, indulging in their pleasures. Maybe they’d have to wait until their next cycles. But Wolf would wait. He would.

They went to the library. Lord Kuro’s books and research remained untouched, yet he went over to the shelf where Wolf had last found him and took up a slip of parchment from the floor.

“I found this last week,” he explained. “I was planning to show it to you, before …”

His cheeks tinted pink, and he shook his head. “It mentions a fragrant stone enshrined in a village in the Ashina Depths. From what I could gather, this page belonged to an old Okami tome, and the Okami Clan has connections to the Fountainhead Palace.”

“So this fragrant stone is likely part of the Fountainhead aroma?” Wolf asked.

Lord Kuro nodded slowly. “That is what I believe. It wouldn’t hurt to find it.”

Wolf bowed his head. “Very well, my lord.”

He turned to leave, yet Lord Kuro halted him with a hand upon his prosthetic. “Before you go,” his lord said softly. “Let me bid you farewell.”

Wolf accepted the kiss, determined to keep his self-control this time. The moment he felt his lord’s soft lips, his instincts urged him to move faster, yet he held back as best he could. If he gave in, how would he break away?

When they finally withdrew, Wolf bowed and departed swiftly, with the warmth of his lord’s lips lingering on his own.

* * *

“We may be able to retreat to the Uesugi Clan,” Nobuaru said.

Kuro steepled his fingers together, glancing at his general. The day’s meeting with Genichiro’s advisors had not gone so well; they still refused the idea of a retreat even though the Ministry’s forces were on the move.

Nor had they given any indication that they knew that Kuro was mated. Perhaps they kept silent on Isshin’s orders while plotting behind his back. Perhaps Wolf’s scent was so close to Kuro’s that they couldn’t tell the difference. In any case, Kuro prayed that there wouldn’t be an incident on the horizon. They were more pressing matters at hand than who Kuro was mated to.

“It is not just the Ministry,” the advisors had said. “Outsiders clothed in red have been seen passing near the outskirts.”

Kuro sighed. The Ministry, oddly-garbed figures, and bandits … There were more enemies than allies. Many to keep track of.

It was only in the privacy of Kuro’s room that he and his allies could speak freely. “Would it be possible to tell the citizens without the advisors finding out?” he asked.

Nobuharu exhaled heavily. “This may be a diminishing clan, but that is still a lot of people to consider.”

“Word-of-mouth is a powerful method,” Emma pointed out. “But if the word gets out of hand, it will likely reach the castle’s ears.”

Kuro rubbed his chin, gazing at the map that Nobuharu had brought. It lay before them on the floor, displaying Ashina’s region with the surrounding clans. Uesugi was their best bet, but getting there – not to mention getting out of Ashina first – was the problem.

“We could spread the word at the last minute when we’re certain that the Ministry is close,” Nobuharu suggested. “But where would they go?”

“There is a secret passage beneath the moat bridge that leads out of Ashina,” Emma said. “Lord Isshin spoke to me about it.”

Kuro stared at her. “When were you going to tell me?”

“Lord Isshin didn’t tell me about it until recently, and you were also busy,” Emma said, a slight smile on her face. Kuro’s face grew warm.

“I checked the bridge,” she continued. “It is intact. If we spread the word to the citizens before the Ministry arrives, they may have a chance.”

“I will guide them,” Kuro decided.

“I will stand with you,” Nobuharu said immediately.

“Forgive me, but I may not be able to do the same,” Emma said, eyes downcast. “Lord Isshin …”

“I understand,” Kuro said gently. “You have done much to help me already. I am grateful.”

No, he would not begrudge her for standing by her master’s side. How could he do so when he did not begrudge Wolf?

 _Oh, Wolf,_ he thought, glancing to one of the large, shuttered windows. _I pray that you are safe._

In the second hour of the afternoon, Kuro took up his combat training with Nobuharu. His general was only too willing to take over supervision of Kuro’s progress, acting as a sparring partner and mentor.

Nobuharu had taken to the news of Kuro’s mating better than Kuro expected. Marriages for love were frowned upon, and that included matings as well. But Kuro’s general was rather neutral, to his relief.

“I am glad that you are no longer tied to Lord Genichiro,” Nobuharu said when they were alone. “A shinobi … Well, I have seen how he looks at you. I trust he will treat you well.”

“He does,” Kuro said earnestly, and Nobuharu appeared somewhat eased. Kuro didn’t doubt that his general would’ve preferred a lord to be his mate, anyone of higher standing than a mercenary shinobi. Genichiro’s advisors were likely whispering to each other at this moment, sneering at Kuro from behind closed shoji, wondering why they had to take orders from a boy mated to his servant.

Kuro could hardly care less. Wolf was his, and he was Wolf’s. No one else had any control over that save for them.

At the end of Kuro’s katana training, Nobuharu took him up to the tower lookout to practice using the jinkai. Kuro stood at the railing, looking over the castle’s grounds, attempting to calm his beating heart.

The warm-ups were fine. Kuro could complete those with no problem. Getting a sound out of the jinkai was harder since his mouth muscles were not accustomed to it. He’d managed it in the last lesson they had, but he hadn’t been able to practice because of … Well, on account of his cycle coming early.

“Try again, my lord,” Nobuharu said patiently. “Remember to breathe from your core.”

Kuro took a deep breath and blew into the mouthpiece. A low, bellowing sound erupted from the jinkai’s shell, echoing over the castle.

“There!” Nobuharu exclaimed. “Well done, my lord!”

Kuro smiled, both pleased and embarrassed with himself.

“Keep practicing,” his general said encouragingly. “I will show you how to perform the basic signals.”

Kuro sighed before raising the mouthpiece to his lips again. Now he truly knew why Wolf preferred the reed whistle. Not only were they easier to carry, but getting a noise out of them was so effortless!

Perhaps Wolf could teach him the shinobi signals. Kuro smiled against the mouthpiece at that thought.

* * *

The rotten, wet stench of Mibu Village clung to Wolf’s haori as he entered the cave. His back smarted from the Corrupted Mon’s strike; a sip from his healing gourd put the ache at ease, and he quickened his pace.

A vast cavern opened up before him. Waters pooled on the ground, swirling around a small hill in the cavern’s centre. 

Light filtered through from overhead, shining upon a palanquin that sat on the hill. At the base of the hill was a stone altar surrounded by blazing torches.

Wolf approached the altar. An oddly-shaped stone sat upon it, burnished pink and gleaming in the firelight. A sweet aroma akin to sakura wafted around the stone and spilt over the altar. Was this the stone he was after?

As if in answer to his question, his eye caught an inscription upon the altar:

_Shelter stones such as this_

_Are an auspicious omen,_

_Sweetly scented for a bridal offering._

_The palanquin awaits with open arms._

So this _was_ the stone. Wolf carefully tucked it in his haori, then glanced up at the palanquin before turning away. He could not afford to dwell too long; his journey here had taken him halfway into the afternoon, and the urge to return to Lord Kuro had settled deep in his bones. 

At the cave’s entrance, Wolf brought out his Homeward Idol and sat down. _Take me to my lord,_ he prayed.

Blue mist rose around him, then settled a second later, and Wolf found himself upon the roof that ringed the lookout of Ashina Castle.

The coppery stench of blood reeked through the air. Down below, he heard the faint ringing of blades. Wolf’s hackles rose. _An invasion?_

Voices reached his attention, and he turned to the lookout, keeping crouched as a precaution. His focus tunnelled onto Lord Kuro; his lord appeared unharmed and well, and Wolf breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Lord Kuro was speaking to another, someone sitting on the tatami mats, head bowed … 

Shock erupted in Wolf’s chest.

_Father!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhangeeerrrr hehehehh  
> Writing Wolf during his rut was a treat; that's probably the most open he's ever been around anybody lololl  
> Also, you guys may have noticed that the chapter amount has gone up by two! More character convo scenes? More summarized battles?? More juicy smut??? Who knows! XDDD But I hope y'all stick around to find out!
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! <333


	16. There Must Be Another Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, another super long chapter! I put a line break where I would've split it, so sit back and enjoy! :D

“I remember you well,” Lord Kuro said, pacing away from the Great Shinobi. “I heard stories of your death, yet here you are. What are you plotting, Owl?”

Wolf held his breath, waiting for his father’s reply. His father – alive! But how?

“Plotting?” Owl replied, and the familiar sound of his gruff voice sent a cold shiver over Wolf’s skin. “I would do no such thing.”

Lord Kuro turned back to look at him. His expression was neutral, yet suspicion shone in his eyes. Wolf fought the urge to reach his lord’s side; he needed to hear what Owl had to say.

“Now, my lord, I must ask that you accompany me,” his father declared, shifting into a kneel before Lord Kuro. “This old bird has but one desire. To protect the Divine Heir from those who might take his esteemed blood.”

Wolf stiffened. Owl’s scent was unchanged, musky with the dampness of mist and trees.

Lord Kuro remained still, yet his tone hardened. “So the Dragon’s Heritage has seduced you too? Then we have nothing more to discuss. Take your leave.”

He turned away from Owl, heading for the shoji. Wolf nearly leapt over the railing to reach him; no one should ever turn their back to Owl unless they wished for an unpleasant end.

Owl slowly stood to his full height. Wolf’s hairs stood on end as Owl’s eyes lingered on Lord Kuro. For a moment, his alpha scent shifted, curling in the air.

“I would, my lord,” Owl said. “But I’m so stunned by this view, I’d like to take it in just a while longer. I’ll leave when I’ve had my fill.” 

Lord Kuro hesitated for a split second before disappearing down the stairs.

Wolf allowed himself a slow exhale. His lord was out of Owl’s sight for now. The alpha in him bristled to see his own father leering after Lord Kuro. Yet he pushed it to the back of his mind as he leapt over the railing, approaching Owl with no small amount of trepidation.

Owl glanced at him without any surprise. He crossed his arms, towering over Wolf as always, silhouetted against the afternoon’s golden clouds.

“Father,” Wolf murmured in disbelief. “To think that you were still alive …”

“That was by my design,” Owl said briskly, as though his years of absence never happened. “But the same can be said for you. I was certain you died that night.”

“The power of the Divine Heir brought me back.”

A strange gleam came into his father’s eyes, glimmering under his heavy brows. “That’s it! The Divine Heir’s power … The Dragon’s blood must be mine.”

A wave of cold washed over Wolf. “Father …”

“Now you see it,” Owl said, taking on the authoritative tone that Wolf had always followed. “Remember the first rule of the Iron Code. As your father, I order you to forsake your master. From this moment, he is your master no more.”

“Forsake,” the word tasted bitter on Wolf’s tongue, “the Divine Heir?”

He could hardly believe what he was hearing. First his father’s sudden appearance, and now this!

“Listen to me, Wolf,” Owl said firmly, looming over him. “For all our sakes, obey your father’s command and forsake the Divine Heir.”

Wolf stared at him. He had always obeyed the Iron Code. It was absolute. It was his duty.

And yet … Things had changed. He did not know when it began, but the Code no longer drove him as it used to.

No, his lord drove him now. How could he forsake that?

Owl’s beard twitched, as though he smiled underneath. “You are thinking of your omega. Don’t try to deny it, boy. His scent is all over you.”

"Then you know I cannot do as you ask," Wolf said tightly.

“You think I would ask you to do this if I knew you couldn’t?” Owl snorted. “You misunderstand me. Perhaps acting as a beta has softened your nerve.”

“Father, I –”

“You are an _alpha,_ boy. Do you know what that means? The alpha has authority over their omega, not the other way around. How can you wield your full authority when your omega is master over you?”

Wolf swallowed. His father’s words dug into his ears, sinking into his mind, stirring his more primal instincts.

 _Yes,_ the alpha in him purred. _He is mine. My omega._

 _No,_ Wolf thought, clenching his fists. They were mates, but Lord Kuro was still his lord, and Wolf was still his shinobi! 

“Are you afraid to give him your full attention as an alpha?” Owl said. “That is what all omegas desire, and yours is no different. Forsake him as your master so that you can fully claim to be his alpha.”

Wolf hesitated. Was he not giving enough attention to Lord Kuro? Was his affection insufficient? Perhaps – perhaps Lord Kuro was unsatisfied with him as an alpha?

The thought settled like a lump of lead in his chest. He wanted his lord to know that there was no other. That Wolf’s loyalty and devotion were all for him, and only for him. 

Memories of their mating rose in Wolf’s mind before he could stop himself. His lord pressed under him, sharing their pleasure as they were knotted … 

He remembered the soft touch of Lord Kuro’s lips, the soft twinkle in his warm brown eyes.

This was not about an alpha’s authority. Wolf trusted and respected his lord, and he knew Lord Kuro trusted him.

He glanced at his father. There was no change in Owl’s stoic expression, yet Wolf wanted to recoil. Raise his hackles. Do anything to keep this alpha away from his mate.

“I cannot,” Wolf declared. "I will not forsake him as my master."

Incredulity spread over Owl’s haggard face. “You would disobey your father, boy?” he rumbled. “Have you forgotten the Shinobi Code?”

“A code must be determined by the individual,” Wolf said. “That is what I’ve decided. Just as my master did.”

Lord Kuro was his Code now. Or maybe he’d always been, and Wolf didn’t realize it. But now he knew it with as much certainty as Lord Kuro had in severing the immortal ties.

Wolf turned away from Owl, heading for the lookout’s shoji, and from there on, the stairs to Lord Kuro’s room.

Everything was silent. Wolf curled his fingers around Kusabimaru, and not a moment too soon –

The resounding clash of blades rang in the air.

“Hmm.” There was nothing but disdain on Owl’s face. “Seems you’ve grown, if just a little.”

Wolf managed to break out of the lock, slashing at Owl. His father jumped back, all the way to the far end of the lookout. Wolf settled into his stance.

“Have it your way.” Owl reared to his full height, katana gleaming at his side. “Young Wolf.”

It had been a long while since Wolf last sparred with his father.

Owl moved as swiftly as ever. Wolf searched for an opening as he dodged and parried his father's fierce attacks, but Owl undermined him each time.

"You've gotten slow, boy," Owl sneered. "How many times have you disappointed your omega?"

Wolf snarled in a sudden flare of fury. He loosed a firecracker, and in the split second that Owl shielded his face against the wrathful sparks, Wolf leapt forward and slashed at Owl's arm.

Owl leapt back with a barking laugh. "Ha! That's it, boy. Give me your all!"

Their blades clashed without end, ringing throughout the tower. Owl threw several shurikens, nearly severing Wolf’s head, and dashed from side to side with a taunting smile. Wolf bared his teeth. His father always toyed with him when they sparred, delighting in pushing Wolf to his limits, seeing how far he could go. It had built up Wolf’s strength and resilience, yet there were times when his patience ran out.

This was quickly turning into one of those times. Wolf wanted this to end. He wanted to see his father fall and never rise again. He would not have this threat overshadow his lord.

Lord Kuro was _his_ to protect and hold. 

Owl looked down at him with disappointment. “You don’t deserve your master. He could do far better than with a mongrel like yourself.”

“Then why –” Wolf began, only to stop as a realization burst in his mind.

Owl’s eyes gleamed.

“You wanted him for yourself,” Wolf breathed, tightening his hold on Kusabimaru. “You were going to use me to get to him.” Lord Kuro being an omega would've been a bonus for the Great Shinobi. How had Wolf not seen it before?

“That’s my boy.” Owl attacked faster than Wolf could dodge. The force of his father’s attack sent Wolf sliding across the lookout, with Kusabimaru tearing through the tatami mats. Wolf stumbled to his feet in a defensive stance.

“You are such a loyal dog, aren’t you,” Owl said, circling him at a casual pace. “And bold to taint the Divine Heir with your mark. How many treats did he give you? How _sweet_ did they taste?" He harrumphed. “No matter. I’ll soon find out after I’ve finished with you.”

Wolf could hardly speak for the anger burning in his chest. A furious growl tore through his throat, reverberating in his bones.

“You will not have him,” he snarled. The alpha in him reared, ready to protect his territory with whatever means necessary.

“You think you can protect your omega?” Owl scoffed. “You won’t last, boy. The Ministry will come soon with their forces and firepower, and who will guard him while they hold you down?”

Wolf swallowed, trying to ignore his pounding heart. Neither he nor Lord Kuro would stand a chance if they were overrun by the Ministry. If he failed his lord –

No, he told himself. He must not let Owl distract him. The Ministry was still far from them. The main threat right now was the Great Shinobi.

His father, he who would take Lord Kuro away from Wolf and claim him for his own. A vivid image flashed through Wolf’s mind at that moment – his lord trapped underneath Owl, arms held above his head by large hands, screaming and sobbing as Owl tore through his lithe body with his massive size. Wolf saw his father’s teeth pierce Lord Kuro’s flesh, polluting his sakura scent with a wretched stench. 

Wolf saw red.

He dashed forward. Owl slashed at him without hesitation, but Wolf leapt over his father’s attack and landed behind him.

He drove Kusabimaru between his father’s shoulder blades, sheathing the blade to the hilt. Blood sprayed from Owl’s chest, splattering the mats below.

“Death of a shadow,” Wolf murmured. “You taught me well.”

Owl wheezed, sinking to his knees. “Defeated by my own son? The feeling is not entirely … unpleasant …”

He fell the floor and was still.

Wolf stood there in silence, breathing heavily. Redness still tainted the edges of his vision.

He must deal with the body. The very sight of it made his lip curl in disgust.

He dragged Owl’s corpse to the edge of the lookout. A shout sounded from down below, met with another. Wolf peered down, and all at once, his instincts flared.

What was Lord Kuro doing outside the castle?

As Wolf watched, his lord finished speaking with another – General Nobuharu, he realized – and they both turned to enter the castle. 

_He is coming._ A sudden need overtook Wolf, pushing him to find his lord, but he first grasped Owl’s body and lifted him onto the railing. The black roosters could deal with the remains.

Something slipped from Owl’s robes and fell to the floor. Wolf frowned. _A branch?_ The smell of sakura wafted past his nostrils, reminding him of his lord’s scent.

Wolf picked it up and tucked it away, not entirely sure why he did so. Then he released a firecracker on the corpse. It quickly caught fire, and Wolf shoved it over the railing.

He turned for the shoji only after making sure that Owl was completely consumed in flames down below.

_My lord, my lord …_

Wolf entered Lord Kuro’s room. It was empty, even the library.

Owl’s words echoed in his mind. _You think you can protect your omega?_

Wolf snarled despite himself and turned to leave the room. He’d find his lord –

The shoji abruptly slid open to admit someone inside.

It was Lord Kuro. “Wolf!” he breathed, hurriedly closing the few feet between them. Wolf breathed in his lord’s scent, basking in the knowledge that his lord was now safe. “Are you alright? Are you unhurt?”

“My lord,” Wolf rasped. His voice failed him, and he was left to gaze at his lord, taking in the splashes of dark blood that stained his haori and kimono. Lord Kuro’s katana hung at his hip; the scabbard was also sprayed with blood.

Lord Kuro’s eyes shone with a glazed, haunted look. Something twisted in Wolf’s chest at the sight. He knew his lord detested battle, but he would fight to protect his own.

“I saw you outside,” Wolf said softly.

Lord Kuro moistened his lips. “Yes … They were Owl’s men, red-garbed shinobi. We managed to drive them off for now.”

Wolf clenched his trembling fist. If only he’d given Owl a worse death!

“My lord,” he said, “I killed him.”

Lord Kuro’s face contorted. Was that – guilt? “Wolf … I am sorry.”

“Lord Kuro.” Wolf was startled. He hadn’t expected his lord’s reaction. 

His lord spoke ever softly. “I am sorry …”

“My lord,” Wolf murmured, stepping as close as he dared to his lord, “I did what had to be done.”

Lord Kuro sucked in a shaky breath. “Wolf … Thank you.”

Wolf ached to move closer to his lord, to offer him some comfort, yet Owl’s voice whispered in his mind, keeping him rooted to the spot. 

_You don’t deserve your master. He could do far better than with a mongrel like yourself._

_You have no more hold over me,_ Wolf shot back, yet the truth in his father’s words cut through him. Wolf was only a shinobi. How could he ever hope to satisfy his lord?

He hastily reached into his haori and brought out the branch, hoping that his lord hadn’t noticed his pause. “My father,” he said, “had this in his possession.”

Lord Kuro gasped as he gingerly took it. “This branch … It’s from the Everblossom tree!” He turned it over, running his ivory fingers over the bark. “I see. So Owl had it.”

“Everblossom?” Wolf repeated, confused.

“Lady Emma spoke of it once,” Lord Kuro explained quietly. “The Everblossom was a sakura tree that Lord Takeru brought over from the divine realm. It once bloomed behind this castle. However, when a branch was cut off and the flowers taken, the Everblossom eventually dried and withered away.”

“So this is that branch?” There were no flowers upon it, from what Wolf could see.

“Yes, I believe so,” Lord Kuro said. “And I have a feeling it is part of the Fountainhead Incense. It smells much like the incense burner.”

“Then we are getting closer to the Incense,” Wolf said.

“Yes.” His lord looked up at him, eyes gleaming with gratitude. “That’s right, Wolf. You have done well to gather the ingredients.”

Warmth spread through Wolf’s chest at the praise. “I also procured the stone.”

Lord Kuro blinked in surprise at the Shelter Stone sitting in Wolf’s hand. “What a peculiar shape it is!”

“It had been made into some sort of shrine,” Wolf explained. “There was also an inscription written on the altar – ‘a sweetly scented bridal offering’.”

“Bridal?” Lord Kuro rubbed his chin in thought. “What kind of place was this?”

Wolf described the cave for him, including the palanquin on the hill. His lord began to pace around the room, holding the Everblossom branch close. “I suppose there’s no way to know where the wedding procession was headed,” he mused.

Wolf’s brow furrowed. Something in the inscription tugged at his mind. “Sweetly scented … Lord Kuro,” he said suddenly. “That place might be the gateway to the divine realm.”

His lord drew in a slow breath. “Then, sweetly scented might refer to being wrapped in the Fountainhead Incense. Once we make the Incense, you can infuse your clothes in it!”

Lord Kuro’s excitement seeped through Wolf, quickening his heart. This was it. They had all the ingredients, and now there was no time to waste in making the aroma.

He followed his lord to the altar where the incense burner sat; at Lord Kuro’s direction, Wolf placed all the ingredients in the burner.

There was still one piece left to add.

“Wolf,” Lord Kuro said with a soft firmness. “The Mortal Blade.”

A discontented rumble vibrated through Wolf’s chest.

His lord smiled reassuringly. “Fear not. I will only make a shallow cut. Will you draw the Blade from its sheath?”

Wolf reluctantly took hold of the Blade’s hilt, strapped to his back. “Yes, my lord.”

“Forgive me, but … Close your eyes.”

Wolf gazed hard at Lord Kuro. It was his duty to obey, and yet … If only there were some things that he could prevent. “Yes, my lord.”

He closed his eyes and drew the Mortal Blade. It hummed in his hand, only to fade as Lord Kuro took it. Wolf pressed his lips in a thin line as he heard his lord’s sharp inhale.

A few heartbeats passed, and then – “It’s over now, Wolf.”

Wolf snapped his eyes open. Lord Kuro withdrew his hand from the incense burner; red drops hung on his fingers, and Wolf caught a sweet, coppery smell of blood. The burner itself glowed pink as a sweet, sakura-like aroma filled the air.

“How is the wound?” Wolf asked, unable to fully hide his urgency.

“I’m fine,” Lord Kuro replied as he readjusted the front of his kimono. “I just made a small cut on my chest.”

Wolf’s fingers twitched as he replaced the Mortal Blade in its scabbard. He ought to check the wound, clean it, bandage it …

“So this is the Fountainhead Incense,” Lord Kuro said, voice soft with awe as he gazed at the burner. “It’s so extraordinarily nostalgic …” He glanced at Wolf. “Well? Do you notice anything different?”

Wolf breathed in the Incense. It filled his senses, muddling his head, and he blinked to keep focus. “The aroma, and … _Fountainhead Palace_ … Those words have been burned into my mind.”

“Fountainhead Palace,” Lord Kuro mused. “It is just as Lord Takeru wrote. That place must lead to the divine realm. And to reach it …”

“The cave where I found the altar,” Wolf supplied.

“Yes,” his lord said with a nod. “You now carry the Incense. I believe the path to the Fountainhead Palace will open for you if you return to the shrine within the cave.”

Wolf bowed his head. “Very well. I will prepare for the journey.”

Lord Kuro’s eyes shone bright. “Thank you, Wolf.”

Something twisted in Wolf’s gut. His lord stood so close, and in just an hour or so they’d be separated once again. He wanted to speak, yet what if he said the wrong thing?

For a heartbeat, Lord Kuro looked as though he wanted to say something too.

Then the moment passed.

In the end, Wolf said nothing. He took to a corner of his lord’s room and set to cleaning his tools, restocking the firecrackers, sharpening Kusabimaru. Lord Kuro retreated to the library; Wolf listened to the sounds of his lord flipping through books, dusting the shelves, even coughing once or twice.

They were in the same room, yet Wolf felt as though a sea lay between them. Was it because of his father’s words? But Owl was _dead._ There was no need to listen to him …

The shoji slid open, drawing Wolf from his thoughts. It was Emma.

She halted upon seeing him. Wolf frowned, thinking to greet her, but Emma raised a finger to her lips and gestured for him to follow up the stairs.

The sun neared the horizon beyond the lookout. The cold air bit at Wolf’s cheeks as he faced Emma, wondering what this was all about.

“I am glad that you’re here, Master Wolf,” Emma said.

“What is it?” Wolf asked.

Emma hesitated, then lowered her head with a heavy sigh. “I was not completely honest with you before, Master Wolf.”

He was not expecting _that._ “What do you mean?”

“When you came to me, asking about how to draw the Divine Heir’s blood … I did not tell you everything.”

At this, she brought out a leaf of parchment and handed it to him. Wolf took it with narrowed eyes and read it through.

_"With Mortal Blade in hand, my blood may be shed._

_“With my blood, the aroma will be complete, the divine realm will be in reach. Immortal Severance will be at hand. I must ask Tomoe to assist with the beheading …”_

Wolf stared at the fluid handwriting. _Beheading._ The word echoed in his mind as he struggled to digest it.

He finally found his voice, half-strangled in his throat. “Lord Takeru wrote this?”

“It was part of his memoirs,” Emma said, quieter than a breath. “Perhaps the act of beheading was the means to end immortality … along with the life of the Divine Heir.”

Wolf’s hands trembled imperceptibly around the parchment. “Does Lord Kuro know of this?”

Even as he asked it, he already knew the answer in his heart.

“Yes,” Emma replied, her gaze downcast.

Of course. _Of course._ His lord was always thorough in his research. _Of course_ he would know. But – why didn’t he tell Wolf before? Did he not trust his shinobi with this information? Did he think his shinobi would refuse if he knew?

 _Yes,_ Wolf thought, inhaling deeply in an effort to calm himself. Because Wolf _would_ refuse. How could he behead his lord, his omega, his mate? Disbelief, and incredulity, and _hurt_ mixed within him, digging into his bones and mind and chest. He wanted to howl. He wanted to run down the stairs and take Lord Kuro in his arms. He wanted to vent his fury at Lord Kuro and the gods. He wanted to beg his lord to reconsider.

_How can you put this task upon me?_

“Master Wolf?” Emma asked softly.

Wolf scrambled to piece his composure together. His voice came out in a gruff whisper. “Did Lord Takeru succeed?”

Emma shook her head. “Lady Tomoe desired to sever his immortality, but she couldn’t bear to kill him. You see … She was his alpha.”

Wolf exhaled slowly. He understood only too well.

“When Lord Takeru realized her plan to find another way, he refused to let her go through with it. I don’t know why he did so, but … He died from a strange illness before any more could be done, and Lady Tomoe committed suicide in her grief.”

If that was so, then Lord Kuro would likely refuse Wolf’s efforts if he tried Tomoe’s path. _Damn it!_ Could his lord not think of himself, for once? Of what his life meant to Wolf and Hirata’s people?

As if from a distance, Owl’s words returned to him. 

_The alpha has authority over their omega, not the other way around. But how can you wield your full authority when your omega is master over you?_

Wolf was his lord’s alpha. It was his duty to keep his omega safe and well.

But he was also his shinobi, trained to serve and obey.

How did one reconcile with the other?

“Why have you told me all this?” Wolf asked.

“Because I do not want to see Lord Kuro die,” Emma said quietly. “And you, as his alpha and shinobi, are the only one who can help.”

Wolf handed Takeru’s parchment back to her. “I must depart for the Fountainhead Palace soon. But by my life, I will not let my lord die.”

Relief shone in Emma’s warm gaze. “Thank you, Master Wolf. I will see what more I can find about this and let you know when you return.”

Wolf re-entered his lord’s room. Lord Kuro was no longer in the library; the soft light of a candle shone through the shoji of his bedroom. Wolf gazed at the shoji as the whirlwind of emotions continued to tear through him.

His anger flared, but not necessarily at Lord Kuro. He couldn’t blame his lord for their situation. It was the cruel work of fate that saddled him with the Dragon’s Heritage. 

And there was something else – Wolf’s position. What was he to his lord? Alpha or shinobi? He didn’t know how both could work together if he continued with Lord Kuro … 

There was only one way to find out, even if it was more bold and improper than Wolf was used to. But if he did not do it now, he might never get a chance to.

After all … He couldn’t be sure of what would happen when he returned from the divine realm.

* * *

Kuro sat on the floor in his bedroom, cleaning his katana. Memories of that afternoon’s fight still hovered in his mind’s eye. He still was not used to killing, and he never wanted to get used to it. But he would do what he must to protect Ashina’s people.

_Do what must be done …_

“My lord?” Wolf’s rough voice was soft on the other side of the shoji.

“You may enter,” Kuro said, setting his katana down and standing. His shinobi entered the bedroom, sliding the shoji closed, and bowed to Kuro.

A wave of content washed over Kuro as he gazed at Wolf, taking in his alpha scent, feeling his stoic presence. “What do you need, Wolf?”

Wolf’s eyes bored into his own. “I wish to speak with you, my lord. About us.”

Hot chills passed over Kuro’s skin. This was … He didn’t know what this was. Wolf had never been so bold with him; he was straightforward when he spoke, of course, but Kuro never imagined his shinobi to bring up the topic of their mating!

“O-of course,” Kuro said hastily. “Here, you may sit.”

Wolf sat beside the futon. Kuro’s cheeks warmed as he remembered how they’d spent a week in here, entwined with each other. Wolf removed Kusabimaru and the Mortal Blade, setting them down on the floor at his side.

There was something careful and calculating about the way he moved. Unease coiled in Kuro’s stomach. Was something wrong? Perhaps – perhaps Wolf wanted to dissolve the mating bond between them?

A chill washed over him at the thought, yet he kept quiet, watching his shinobi closely.

“May I speak forthright, my lord?” Wolf asked.

Kuro nodded, trying to keep his breathing in control. “Of course. Always.”

“Are you pleased with me?”

“I –” Kuro paused. Had he heard him correctly? “Of course I am. I always have been.”

“Not as your shinobi, my lord,” Wolf murmured. “I mean … as your alpha.”

Kuro’s brow furrowed. He was glad that this was not about dissolving their bond. Yet if Wolf saw fit to bring this topic up himself, then it must have bothered him terribly. “Why do you ask, Wolf?”

Wolf’s usual stoicism cracked for a brief moment, revealing a strain of shame. “I do not act as your alpha should. I am bound to you by duty, and that has always been first in my mind. But now …” He lowered his head. “I haven’t done enough to deserve you as my mate.”

“Wolf, that is not so!” Kuro said earnestly. “I am very pleased with you as you are.”

“I do not give you enough affection outside of our cycles.”

“That …” Kuro took a moment to gather his thoughts. “Well, that is alright. You have always been reserved. As you say, your duty comes first.”

“But it is more now than just being your shinobi,” Wolf said, and he spoke with more passion than Kuro had ever heard, save for their mating. “You are still my lord, and I will fulfil your every desire as I can. But you are also my omega, and I – I am failing you.”

Kuro suddenly wanted to wrap his arms around his shinobi, but he didn’t know if such a gesture would be welcome. “Oh, Wolf,” he whispered. “I hope you believe me when I say that you have never failed me yet. If you are letting me down as my alpha, then I am letting you down as your omega. I still act as your lord, not truly as your mate.”

Wolf looked as though he wanted to protest, but it was true. Kuro had not greeted his shinobi properly when they reunited earlier. He’d wanted to kiss Wolf so badly, but something made him hesitate.

Would Wolf have accepted it? Kuro hadn’t been sure at the time, thinking that his shinobi’s mind was still rooted in what was proper for them both.

“Wolf,” he said after a moment. “Would you like me to dissolve your pledge of service?”

"My lord!” his shinobi breathed, eyes widening with incredulity and … fear?

“You will be my alpha fully if I do so,” Kuro said hastily. “You will be free from the expectations of a shinobi.”

Wolf shook his head. “My lord, I – I cannot ask that of you.”

“You can,” Kuro said quietly. “I want you to be pleased too.”

“Your pleasure comes first.”

“You don’t like the idea of _not_ being my shinobi?”

“If you dissolve my pledge …” Wolf’s flesh hand tightened over his knee. “It is like cutting a thread that ties us together.” He suddenly blushed at his words. “Forgive me, my lord. I am being too bold.”

“Not at all,” Kuro said with a small smile. “I like it when you’re bold.”

The flush in Wolf’s cheeks deepened further, yet there was a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“And I feel as you do,” Kuro continued. “But we are tied now in more ways than one, yes?”

“The bond can always be dissolved by force. If the Interior Ministry takes us captive …” Wolf trailed off, his face darkening.

“No omega has survived a forceful re-bonding,” Kuro pointed out. “I would die before they take me from you.”

“You are also the Divine Heir. Your blood would likely keep you safe.”

“Wolf,” Kuro said firmly, “you will always be mine, even in death. And I will always be yours. When this is all over …” He took a deep breath, gathering his composure. “You will be released of your pledge whether you wish it or not. Ashina will not survive this war, and there will be no lands for us to rule over. I will lose my status of lord when that happens.”

It was not a full lie, but that did not ease the guilt in Kuro’s chest. He'd read Lord Takeru's memoirs, and he knew what Immortal Severance entailed. But he hadn't told Wolf yet. He had a strong feeling Wolf would outright refuse if he knew what the ritual would cost.

To force his shinobi into doing such a thing … Kuro swallowed around the lump in his throat. What kind of an omega was he? He was no better than Genichiro.

“Neither of us know when that time will be,” Kuro continued, hoping that Wolf hadn't noticed his inner turmoil. “Until then, we can practice.”

His shinobi’s eyes lit up. “I would like that,” he murmured.

“I as well,” Kuro said, bolstered by Wolf’s words. “And I must admit – I’ve wondered what it would be like to obey _you.”_ His face warmed at how silly he sounded. 

Wolf, on the other hand, stared at him in surprise. “My lord …”

“I know you must leave soon,” Kuro said softly. “But would you be willing to try?”

Wolf was silent for a moment. Something shifted in his gaze; whether hardening or darkening, Kuro couldn’t tell. His shinobi glanced at him again, and this time there was something calculating in his gaze.

Kuro prayed he would say yes. If they could have even one final moment together before Wolf departed, that would be enough. He didn’t know how long Wolf would be gone, nor did he know what would happen while he was absent.

But when Wolf returned, it would be with the dragon tears, gods willing. And then … Kuro would be gone from him.

Kuro's heart twisted so painfully that he wanted to cry. He didn’t want to leave his shinobi. But he couldn’t keep his ties to immortality either. It would only doom Wolf and all of those in the land.

 _Just one more moment,_ Kuro prayed. _One more._

Wolf drew in a slow breath. “You must tell me if I go too far,” he said, voice low and undercut with desire. Even his scent thickened in the air.

“I will,” Kuro promised without hesitation. His heart soared at his shinobi’s acceptance.

“Now,” he breathed, “command me, my alpha. I am yours.”

Wolf appraised him. Kuro shivered under his shinobi’s intense gaze, and though his body trembled with anticipation, he wasn’t afraid. He trusted Wolf.

Something shifted in the air. Wolf’s scent deepened, growing muskier than usual, curling around Kuro with want. A soft rumble sounded in Wolf’s throat.

Kuro swallowed. _He’s giving in to his instincts._

Then Wolf spoke. “Come here, my omega.”

Kuro moved over to him, restraining from launching himself at Wolf. He could already feel his alpha’s strong arms around him – oh, but he mustn’t get ahead of himself!

Wolf’s brown eyes bored into Kuro’s, and Kuro slicked at being so close to his alpha –

Suddenly, Wolf leaned forward and pressed his lips to Kuro’s neck. Kuro gasped; his alpha mouthed at him hungrily, and Kuro wrapped his arms around Wolf’s shoulders, panting softly. His core flooded with heat, cock aching with need.

“Wolf,” he moaned, letting his instincts rise. “My alpha …”

Wolf moved up and caught his mouth in a kiss. Kuro moved with all the strength and speed that he could muster, tightening his hold around Wolf, half-straddling him. Wolf’s hands travelled along his waist and curved around his buttocks, squeezing with delightful pressure.

“How I want you, my Wolf,” Kuro breathed.

Wolf growled softly in answer. He reached up to part Kuro’s kimono and yukata with swift hands, baring his flushed chest. All at once, Kuro realized what his alpha was looking for: the cut on his chest. Wolf gently kissed the wound, trailing further down, and Kuro yelped as Wolf grazed his nipple.

“Omega,” Wolf said, looking up at Kuro with pupils blown wide. “Take off your clothes.”

Kuro eagerly slipped off his kimono and yukata, watching as Wolf removed his own clothes. By the time Kuro finished, his alpha still wore his shitagi and hakama. He’d reattached the shinobi prosthetic to his bandaged stump.

Wolf’s gaze lingered on Kuro, making him blush. The last time they’d gazed at each others’ nudity was during their cycles. But their heads were relatively clear now. Did Wolf see Kuro as he had then?

Wolf grasped Kuro’s arms and lifted him to his feet. “Undress me,” he purred.

“Yes, my alpha.” Kuro removed Wolf’s shitagi and let it fall to the floor, revealing his alpha’s muscled torso and arms. He couldn’t help but run his hands over the hard planes of Wolf’s chest, wanting to press himself tightly against his alpha. He’d kiss every inch of his body if he had the chance …

There was still more to do. Kuro lowered his hands to Wolf’s hakama and pulled them down. He gasped upon seeing his alpha’s engorged cock, hanging low and heavy with his balls equally swollen. Kuro had seen it before, but to see it again outside of his heat was … Well, it certainly made his heart pound faster than ever.

Wolf sat on the futon and pulled Kuro onto his lap. Kuro moaned as his swelling cock rubbed against his alpha’s firm stomach, sending hot flashes of bliss through him. He rubbed hard against Wolf as they kissed passionately.

And gods, how his alpha’s hands gripped at him! They slid over Kuro’s back, stroking his waist, squeezing his buttocks so tight that he squirmed with need. Kuro gasped for breath as Wolf broke the kiss, trailing down Kuro’s jaw and neck, latching onto his mating mark.

 _“Ahhh_ – Wolf!” Kuro bucked his hips against Wolf, and his alpha purred, tightening his hold around Kuro’s waist. _“Please_ – I’m going to –”

Wolf suddenly pushed him back onto the futon. Kuro gasped as his head hit the pillow. A hot wetness covered his cock, and he mewled as Wolf’s tongue rubbed against his sensitive slit. “Wolf!” he cried, his body flushed with heat and desire. _“Ohhh_ – oh, _Wolf!”_

Wolf growled, sliding his tongue higher along the shaft. Kuro wailed as his alpha took in the full length of his cock, sucking with such force that his vision blurred. Kuro rolled his hips against Wolf’s mouth, desperate to find his release. He was getting close, oh gods, so _close –_

He suddenly hit something firm, yet warm and wet, and the delicious friction drove him over the edge. Kuro came in hot bursts, sobbing from the force of pleasure, mumbling Wolf’s name over and over. His alpha’s hot tongue rubbed him relentlessly as he swallowed Kuro’s seed.

As his ecstasy began to ebb, Kuro lay upon the futon gasping and panting, chest heaving with each breath. A sliver of moonlight streamed through the window shutters. Glancing up, Kuro caught Wolf’s bright yellow eyes between his legs, shining in the dark of the room. His heart leapt in his throat at the sight.

“Do you want more, my omega?” Wolf asked in a low rumble.

Part of Kuro remembered that his alpha had a mission to complete, yet his instincts overrode all. “Yes,” he moaned. “Oh, please, alpha – _yes!”_

The shadow of a grin appeared on Wolf’s face, and then he ducked between Kuro’s thighs, pushing his tongue against Kuro’s cunt.

“Ah – _ahhh,_ ” Kuro moaned. He wanted more, _more –_

Wolf curled his fingers around Kuro’s thighs, hitching his legs over his strong shoulders, bearing down with his tongue and teeth. Kuro mewled louder as his core burned with agonizing heat. The pressure in him built until he couldn’t take it – it was too much!

 _“Hnng,_ Wolf – I’m going to – _ahh!”_ He arched his back, trembling violently, as another wave of pleasure crashed through him. His slick pooled between his thighs, and he felt it as Wolf eagerly sucked him dry.

“So sweet,” his alpha growled softly. “My omega.”

“Wolf,” Kuro panted, his head still muddled with bliss. “I want you …”

Wolf slid his hand against Kuro’s inner thigh. “Where do you want me, my omega?”

“I want you!” Kuro whined.

 _“Where?”_ Wolf snarled, his scent spiking with desire.

The smell of his alpha filled Kuro’s senses, riling his instincts and driving him wild. “In me! Please, alpha, I want you in me!”

Wolf rumbled deep in his chest. “Turn over, omega.”

Kuro’s heart pounded as he scrambled to turn over, bare to his alpha. He felt Wolf’s body heat as his alpha leaned over him, and then his weight as he pressed his chest onto Kuro’s back. Kuro’s eyes fluttered closed as Wolf kissed his nape.

And then he felt his alpha’s erection against his buttocks.

“Ahh … Wolf, are you …?” Kuro breathed.

Wolf pressed a needy kiss to his cheek. “You must tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered raggedly.

“Yes,” Kuro whispered. “I – I will.”

Wolf abruptly straightened, and Kuro whined at the loss of his touch. He could still feet his alpha’s cock against him; Kuro shifted back, hoping to rub against it, and Wolf growled.

“Just a moment,” he rasped. “Be patient, my omega.”

Kuro glanced over his shoulder to see. Wolf held a small jar in his prosthetic hand and dipped his flesh fingers into it. _Oil._

“Isn’t that for your prosthetic?” Kuro asked breathlessly.

Wolf set the jar next to the futon and leaned over him again, setting his prosthetic hand near Kuro’s head. “For my tools, yes,” he replied, a smile in his voice.

Kuro gasped as his alpha’s flesh hand slid over his buttocks, then squeaked as Wolf slid his fingers inside. The oil smoothened his passage, and a strangled moan escaped Kuro’s throat as Wolf pressed against his hole.

“How does that feel, my omega?” Wolf rumbled against his ear.

“Good,” Kuro panted. “So good, my alpha. I – I want – _more …”_

“As you wish.” Wolf added another oil-slicked finger, pushing deeper against Kuro’s hole, and Kuro squirmed in his hold.

“Wolf … ahh – _ahhh …”_

He cried out when yet another finger was added, widening him further. He lay there, mewling, splayed helplessly before his alpha. The thought only served to fuel his desire further. Kuro wanted more of Wolf's attention, as much as his alpha could give. And he wanted to give his alpha _everything,_ whatever he desired _._

If he wanted Kuro in his grip like this, then Kuro would gladly give it, and more.

“You are so tight,” Wolf growled, pushing his fingers deeper inside.

Kuro’s oversensitive cock hardened, flaring with aching heat. He writhed against Wolf’s hand, mewling, desperate for release. 

Wolf eventually drew his fingers out. Kuro heard him grunt and managed to gather strength to look over his shoulder.

Wolf had his own length in hand, slathering it with a fine layer of oil. He groaned as his cock engorged from the attention, and Kuro’s mouth watered to see it.

Wolf finished quickly and drew over Kuro again, breathing heavily with eagerness. His eyes shone bright, blazing with desire.

All at once, Kuro felt his alpha’s cock push into his ass, thick and moist from the oil. Kuro moaned deep into his pillow. Wolf grasped Kuro’s hips and thrust forward, groaning as he eased deeper, _deeper –_

_“Ahh!”_ Kuro gasped. “Faster, Wolf, _faster –!”_

Wolf quickened his pace, grunting in time with the carnal rhythm that he built, grasping Kuro so tightly that it would surely leave bruises. Lifting Kuro’s hips, he thrust achingly hard, and Kuro wailed as he was pushed further and further to the brink yet again.

 _“Ohh_ – hnng, it’s too – too much –” He babbled mindlessly as Wolf took him without rest, rutting him as though they were animals. And then, before Kuro knew it, Wolf pounded into him faster and faster; his prosthetic arm slipped under Kuro’s chest and pulled him up so that his back was pressed against Wolf’s front.

Kuro could hardly move on his alpha’s lap. Wolf’s thick length was buried within him, yet Wolf squeezed Kuro’s hips, lifted him up, and shoved him back down onto his cock. Kuro howled and howled as Wolf continued, too full of pleasure to even think straight. 

“Omega,” Wolf growled against his neck. His flesh hand slid between Kuro’s legs and took hold of his cock, stroking hard. “Kuro. _Mine.”_

Wolf’s knot suddenly swelled to its full size, and with a final thrust, Kuro came violently onto the futon. Stars blinded his vision as the ecstasy took hold of him, and he collapsed against his alpha’s chest. He could feel Wolf’s hot seed as it filled him to the brim, dripping along his thighs.

Wolf pressed his face into the crook of Kuro’s shoulder, moaning low as he gave every last drop in him. His lips found Kuro’s mating mark and sucked desperately at it, sending shivers over Kuro’s skin.

Exhaustion immediately fell upon Kuro as his bliss faded to memory. He sighed with content as Wolf laid him down, then moaned as Wolf’s swollen knot rubbed within him. Wolf lay beside Kuro, half-draped over his back, pressing lazy kisses to his neck.

The last thing Kuro remembered was Wolf’s lips upon his cheek. “Sleep now, my omega.”

Kuro woke sometime in the night from another kiss.

“My lord,” Wolf murmured, softer than a breath, “I must go.”

Kuro forced his eyes to stay open as he turned around under his shinobi. Wolf was already dressed, with Kusabimaru and the Mortal Blade strapped to his person.

Wolf leaned down and kissed him. Kuro responded without a second thought, wrapping his arms around Wolf’s shoulders. The rough cloth of his worn haori brushed against Kuro’s skin, and he welcomed the feel of it.

It was over all too soon. Wolf withdrew and stood, but before he could turn away, Kuro grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, Wolf. Just a moment more.”

Part of Kuro hesitated. What was he doing? Wolf had a mission, not to mention one that Kuro gave him! He mustn’t delay his shinobi …

And yet Kuro couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the only moment he’d get. If he didn’t take it, he would never have it again.

Wolf paused, turning to face him. Kuro shifted forward and slipped his fingers over the hem of his shinobi’s hakama.

He glanced up at Wolf before continuing, looking for permission, yet Wolf was already pushing his hakama down and freeing his cock.

Kuro didn’t wait to open his mouth.

He heard Wolf’s lusty growls as he sucked at the head, moving his tongue in slow, lingering strokes. His shinobi’s flesh hand eased behind Kuro’s head, fingers tightening in his hair, but Kuro paid it no mind. He moved farther up along the shaft, licking his shinobi’s engorged knot.

Wolf groaned low. “Ahh … My lord – _yes …”_

Early drops of seed spilled into Kuro’s mouth, and he lapped them up. When his alpha finally came, Kuro swallowed his hot bursts, tasting the sweet earthiness of it with relish.

 _“Ahhh,”_ Wolf sighed.

Kuro withdrew, wiping his mouth, but before he could even say anything, Wolf stooped down and lifted him up, hitching Kuro’s legs around his waist and pressing him to the wall. They moved out of instinct in that moment: Wolf pounding into Kuro without rest while Kuro clung to him, sucking hungrily on his shinobi’s mating mark.

They came as one, yet Wolf pulled out before his knot could lock them together. “Forgive me, my lord,” he whispered raggedly, mouthing at Kuro’s neck as he readjusted his hakama. “I will return soon for you.”

Kuro truly wanted to believe it. Why did it feel like he was losing Wolf forever?

“I will be here,” he replied, and his voice broke ever so slightly.

Wolf leaned back to look at him. His eyes glistened as he searched Kuro’s face. Then he kissed Kuro, pulling him close with an alpha’s unyielding strength.

And then he was gone, leaving Kuro alone in the dark of his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp the second half was mostly just smut, but I hope you guys enjoyed it! ^^;; I wasn't sure whether to include the drawing or not because I wasn't too happy with the anatomy, but I was like, eh I'll post it anyway! XDD  
> Also, there's a big possibility for a Shura!ending AU here; I wrote Wolf's confrontation with Owl to give that option, so if you guys would like to see a Shura companion fic, just let me know XDDD
> 
> On another note, I've once again run out of buffer chapters, so I'll have to let you guys know that I might not be able to post the next chapter on schedule. Best case scenario is that I'll be able to, but since I'm juggling a few things around in rl, I don't want to give you guys false hope.
> 
> But again, if you guys feel that I'm taking WAY too long in posting the next chapter, feel free to come yell at me lmaoo I'm on Discord and all that, but here works too! You guys are my motivation, really :D
> 
> Thanks for listening to my ramble! Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! <333


	17. Two Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned to post this tomorrow but changed my mind XDDD We'll see how my schedule holds up, but rest assured I'll keep working at the chapters until they're all done and posted! :D  
> Thank you guys so much for sticking with me through this story!! I hope you're all doing well and having good days <333

The Divine Child dozed off in the Sanctum’s Hall.

She dreamed of the old days before the monks stole her away. The dreams were blurry like her memory, shot through with sunlight and young laughter. Dots of orange in the sky carried the smell of ripe persimmons. 

Wake up, her siblings whispered.

She ignored them. Couldn’t she dream for a little while longer?

They nudged her insistently. Somebody just entered the Inner Sanctum!

The dream began to dissolve against her will. Her heart ached for the golden days of youth, free of pain. What she would give to see her family again …

She opened her eyes, blinking away the sleepiness, and looked up to see the shinobi.

She gave a start and hurriedly straightened up. “Shinobi of the Divine Heir! You are welcome here. Do you need more rice?”

Wolf inclined his head and knelt. The Divine Child couldn’t sense any rice on his person, but his scent carried a nutty quality, and she smiled to herself.

“Bless us with bountiful harvest,” she said, spilling rice into his open palms, which he then poured into a pouch.

“Thank you,” Wolf murmured, bowing his head before standing.

The Divine Child’s heart flopped in a way that didn’t feel … right. She took a deep breath, patting her chest. 

That was too much rice, her siblings whispered worriedly. 

She ignored them. The shinobi needed it more than she did.

“Did you have a good journey?” she asked him. He’d been gone for more than a week, and she had begun to think that she would never see him again.

Wolf nodded once. Now that she looked closer, she saw that he seemed rather worse for wear – a tear in his haori, a splatter of blood on his face.

“Would you mind if I stayed here for a moment?” Wolf asked. “I need to make some repairs.”

His eyes flickered down, and the Divine Child followed his gaze to the prosthetic on his arm. Was it broken? She couldn’t tell. 

“Of course you may,” she said, smiling. “You are welcome here anytime! The guest room I gave you is as you left it.”

Wolf bowed, gratitude flickering across his face. “Thank you.” With that, he departed the hall through a side corridor.

The Divine Child watched after him. His scent lingered in the air, fresh and clean, and not as musky as she remembered. His cycle must have passed then. And there was something too, something … sweet?

A memory rose in her mind, one of blooming trees and their radiant flowers. Tilled earth lay around the trunks, fresh with rainwater and sun, mingling with the sweet aroma of the flowering trees.

The Divine Child breathed deep, holding on to the lingering memory, and smiled.

When Wolf returned, his hair was damp and a few droplets rolled down his neck. His haori and scarf were missing, leaving his shitagi and hakama, and prosthetic. He must have bathed in the springs.

The Divine Child gestured for him to sit, then pushed the tray of cooked rice and vegetables towards him. “I made this for you. You must have had a long journey.”

Wolf looked as though he wanted to protest, but he sat down and began to eat. Part of the Divine Child wanted to assure him that it was no trouble. She was happy to offer him hospitality. But the other part thought that it would be best to let him eat.

Halfway through the meal, Wolf glanced up at her. “What about you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Oh, no, I am not hungry. This is all for you.”

Not true, her siblings cried. She needed to eat! What was she thinking?

 _Oh, stop it,_ she thought. She had a guest to look after! There would be time enough for her own meals afterwards.

Wolf stared into his bowl of rice. A faint tint of pink appeared on his cheeks. “It is delicious,” he murmured.

The Divine Child beamed. “I am glad to hear it!”

During a pause in eating the vegetables, she asked, “I trust your travels were well after you left?”

Wolf readjusted his hold on the chopsticks. “Yes, I … I needed to check on my lord’s wellbeing.”

“The Divine Heir?” she asked, leaning forward with interest. “How is he?”

“He is – well,” Wolf replied, and stuffed a piece of vegetable into his mouth.

The Divine Heir … What did he look like? The Divine Child imagined a tall man with dark hair, perhaps dressed in a pale kimono. 

Did he look like them, her siblings wondered. Did he look like herself?

“We shared the rice you gave me,” Wolf offered. “He enjoyed it very much.”

“Oh! That is good to hear,” the Divine Child said, her face warming. 

Silence fell upon them as Wolf finished his food. The Divine Child’s thoughts turned to his worn clothes, some parts stained with old blood. She’d heard of a battle taking place beyond the Inner Sanctum, but she didn’t know the details. Nor had she thought much of it; thinking of all the war and pain made her feel small, shrivelled, as helpless and pained as she’d been during the monks’ experiments.

“How fares the world?” she asked softly.

Wolf glanced up at her, appraising. “It is … not well,” he began. “Tokugawa leads a campaign against Ashina. His forces, the Interior Ministry, are bent on taking Ashina Castle and her lords.”

She had heard of Tokugawa as well, but she couldn’t put a face to him. “Will he succeed?”

“It’s hard to say,” Wolf said, a furrow deepening between his brows. “My lord believes that we won’t be able to hold against the Ministry.”

The Divine Child tilted her head in thought. Masses of armed men, fighting against each other with sharp weapons, flying weapons … It must be horrid. What was the use of it all? Why could they not come to peaceful terms?

“What will the Divine Heir do?” she asked.

Wolf frowned and added, “My lord is no coward. He would not abandon Ashina’s people. But our strength dwindles.”

“I understand,” she said quietly. “But … Will he be alright on his own?”

“He is strong,” the shinobi murmured. 

His scent shifted. The Divine Child recognized the change this time. Wolf _longed_ for his lord. Longed for him dearly, as her siblings once longed for an end to the pain, for the embrace of their mothers and fathers. As she longed for the peaceful days of her youth.

Surely the Divine Heir felt the same. Both for his shinobi and for the immortal ties to be severed.

“What is he like?” she asked, leaning forward despite herself.

She expected only a few words from him, but to her surprise, Wolf spoke of his time with the Hirata Clan. He’d known his lord since the latter was a boy. The Divine Child imagined a young child running through an ornamental garden while his retainer watched over him.

“He would read in his spare time,” Wolf said, voice soft with the fondness of memory. “And he made sweets, as well.”

“Really?” the Divine Child said, surprised. She wouldn’t have expected someone as exalted as the Divine Heir to take on such work, no matter how small …

And yet, did she not do much of the same? Cooking her own meals, washing her own clothes, and cleaning the Sanctum’s Hall. All that, and she was the Divine Child of the Rejuvenating Waters!

“Oh, I see,” she mused. “He may be the Divine Heir of the Dragon’s Heritage, but he’s still human, after all.” She laughed softly at her silliness. “What am I saying, of course he is! I’m sure he had his doubts about severing immortality, yet even so, it is the path he chose.”

She glanced at Wolf. He watched her with a faraway look in his eyes.

“Shinobi of the Divine Heir,” she began, “there is something I would like to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“What is his name?”

Wolf’s voice hummed with reverence and warmth. “Lord Kuro.”

“Lord Kuro,” the Divine Child echoed. "It has a fine ring to it. I would like to meet him someday.”

Her siblings giggled, and her face heated with embarrassment.

“I am sure he would like that,” Wolf replied, a hint of a smile on his face. 

Having finished his meal, he set the empty dishes back onto the tray. “Thank you again for the meal,” he said quietly. “It was delicious.”

The Divine Child beamed. “You are welcome anytime. If you like, I can prepare some more for your journey.”

“There’s no need,” Wolf protested.

“Are you sure? Do you have enough food with you?”

The shinobi kept a sheepish silence.

“I am sure Lord Kuro would want you to keep your strength,” the Divine Child said. “Do you like rice balls?”

A gleam appeared in Wolf’s dark eyes. “I will eat anything.”

A starving wolf indeed, her siblings exclaimed, laughing softly.

“If you would wait a moment longer, I will return soon,” the Divine Child promised.

Wolf nodded. The Divine Child got to her feet, and all at once, a rush of dizziness came upon her. She gasped for breath, heart racing like mad, and stumbled forward.

Strong arms caught her before she could fall. “Are you alright?” Wolf asked, voice low with urgency.

“It –” She wheezed. Her sides seared with pain as though she’d run for miles and miles without rest. “It is nothing serious. I just need a moment …”

Her siblings clamoured worriedly. She truly did give too much rice; it was made from her blood, and with each harvest, her body weakened. But she had wanted to help … 

“Hold on, you don’t look well.” The shinobi settled her back down onto her cushion. “Rest.”

“But your –”

“Nevermind that now.” He spoke softly, but with a firmness that brooked no argument.

The Divine Child gripped his arm for balance, breathing heavily. After a moment, the world stopped spinning, and she exhaled slowly with relief.

“Is there anything I could get you that could help?” Wolf asked.

“Well …” The Divine Child swallowed. “I would like a persimmon.”

“Alright. I will find one for you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. When she opened them, the shinobi was gone.

He returned after what felt like hours and hours, but in truth was only a short while. He must not have stopped to recover his haori or scarf either, for he still wore only his shitagi.

“Here,” he said, holding out a round, orange fruit in his palm.

The Divine Child’s mouth watered even as her chest heaved with each breath. “Truly? You’ve – found me a persimmon?”

“Eat,” he urged gently.

“You have – my thanks.” She took the persimmon and bit into it. Sweet juice gushed into her mouth as she ate with relish, chewing the soft, ripe flesh. With each bite, the pain in her body receded, and her limbs trembled with renewed energy.

Rice grew from her blood, but the persimmons replenished what was used.

“Ahh,” she sighed after finishing the fruit. “So delicious. A ripe persimmon is truly the best. Thank you, good Wolf.”

Relief shone in the shinobi’s gaze. The sight of it was enough to fill the Divine Child with warmth. She’d never received such care before, nor had she expected it. To think that he would take the time to help her … 

“I will leave you for now,” Wolf said, startling her from her thoughts. “Will you be alright?”

The Divine Child nodded, taking a pain-free breath. “Yes. I wish you well in your travels.”

Wolf nodded, and, with one last lingering look, went off to retrieve his other clothes and departed from the Inner Sanctum.

The Divine Child sat there for a long moment. Then she stood and made her way outside the Sanctum, taking the path to the Halls of Illusion. Gusts of wind ruffled her long, dark hair as she made her way over to Halls’ centre.

A great tree grew there, bright with autumn foliage. She sat down at the edge of the wooden platform, closed her eyes, and thought.

 _Immortal Severance._ She knew what the ritual required. Dragon tears and the Mortal Blade, the latter for beheading. Did the shinobi know that? Did he know that he would have to end his lord’s life?

There was more to them than was outwardly shown. She was certain of that much. Wolf’s sweetened scent, and the way he spoke of Lord Kuro … A bond tied them together far tighter than she could comprehend, at least for now. 

But severing immortality’s ties would separate them. A complete parting, unlike the one that she felt with her siblings. They were still with her, at least. But Lord Kuro would be gone from his shinobi.

The knowledge settled heavily in the Divine Child’s chest, weighing her down like a boulder. She shifted uncomfortably on the platform, breathing in the earthy smell of fallen leaves, listening to the wind as it blew over her. 

She remembered the shinobi’s face, worn and stoic, with the mark of the Dragon’s Heritage upon one temple, and a vertical scar on the other. A furrow between his brows and a sharp glint in his eyes. He was loyal to his lord and fought only for him.

But he had helped her. He had found her a persimmon when she asked for one. 

Most likely he and Lord Kuro knew no other way to deal with the Dragon’s Heritage. 

But there was another, her siblings murmured. They did not know the details, but there _was_ another way for certain!

The Divine Child rubbed the hem of her sleeve between her fingers. Yes, there was, but she couldn’t guarantee how it would turn out. She couldn’t guarantee anything.

And yet … It would likely save Lord Kuro. And his shinobi as well.

It was the least she could do for them.

* * *

Kuro stood before the shoji of Lord Isshin’s room. Emma announced his presence, and Lord Isshin admitted him inside.

What did Ashina’s lord want with him? Kuro hoped it wasn’t about his mating with Wolf, though he wouldn’t be surprised if Genichiro’s advisors spread the word about it. That is, if they truly did figure it out.

Lord Isshin lounged back on his futon, looking rather bored. Kuro couldn’t blame him. _He’d_ go mad if he were kept in his room for days at a time.

“Ah, Kuro,” Lord Isshin said, beckoning to him. “Come closer. I have some words for you.”

Kuro bowed and knelt beside the futon. The elder’s alpha scent settled in the air, neither riled by his omega presence nor completely inactive. Rather, it curled in the air, spiked with Lord Isshin’s alertness.

“What do you need of me, my lord?” Kuro asked.

“First, let me congratulate you on your mating!” Lord Isshin gestured to the vessel and cup at his side. “Pour us some sake, will you?”

Kuro was struck dumb for a moment. “M-my lord –”

“Ha! Surprised, are you? I may be stuck here, but I do hear things.” Lord Isshin’s eyes twinkled. “He’ll do good by you. I didn’t trust him at first, but now I know for sure.”

Kuro blushed and hastily poured a cup of sake. This wasn’t what he’d expected, but then again, it was hard to predict with Ashina’s lord.

Lord Isshin downed his sake in two gulps. “Now then,” he said gravely, “the Ministry’s forces are getting closer. I think you know of this, yes?”

Kuro nodded. “General Nobuharu and Lady Emma are helping me with the evacuation plans.”

“You had better put them to action soon,” Lord Isshin said, eyes boring into Kuro’s. “The Ministry moves fast, from what I’ve heard. And they bring weapons of more fire-power than we’ve ever seen.”

Kuro swallowed. “I will keep that in mind, my lord.”

Lord Isshin’s eyes gleamed. “I will come to you when the attack starts.”

“No, my lord,” Kuro protested. “I will be near the danger, and you –”

“You think I’m too old to handle a katana, eh? At ease, young Kuro. It is the least I can do for you in return for taking care of Ashina.”

Kuro swallowed the rest of his words and bowed. Emma would certainly have something to say about her lord moving around while he was still sick.

Emma and Nobuharu waited for him in his room. Kuro slid the shoji closed, then turned to them and said, “We need to begin. In one hour, at least. The Ministry is bound to be here by nightfall.”

Neither of them showed any sign of fear. Kuro wished he could do the same; his hands would not stop trembling!

Nor did he feel ready. There was a battle looming over them, nearly on their doorstep, and Ashina’s men needed a leader. Could he truly do it? Or would he doom them all with one wrong move?

 _Uncle, guide me,_ Kuro prayed. _Lend me your wisdom in this war._

_And Wolf … Please return to me safe._

But if his shinobi didn’t return, what would Kuro do then?

Emma departed first. Before Nobuharu could follow, Kuro stopped him. “Wait. There is something I must ask of you.”

Nobuharu inclined his head. “Yes, my lord?”

“I told you of the ritual, and of my beheading,” Kuro said, and his general stiffened. “Wolf doesn't know yet; if he did, he would refuse to carry out the ritual.”

“Wouldn’t it have been best to tell him before he left?” Nobuharu asked.

“I felt that doing so would distract him from his mission,” Kuro admitted. “It is horrid of me to tell him at the last minute, but that is the only option I have left.

“But,” he added, “in the event that Wolf cannot do it … Will you carry out the ritual?”

He regretted saying it even as the last word left his mouth. But he needed help in this. He couldn’t do it alone.

Asking Emma was out of the question. It wasn’t guaranteed that she would be near when the time came. She had Lord Isshin to stand beside.

To his relief, Nobuharu didn’t protest. Resignation shone in his lowered gaze. “Very well. I will do it if your shinobi cannot.”

Kuro exhaled slowly. “Thank you, Nobuharu. And if Wolf sees –”

“I will gladly let him take my life,” his general said firmly.

“Nobuharu! Wolf will not kill you if he knows that you acted on _my_ orders.” Perhaps Kuro hoped for too much there, but he was not going to let Nobuharu die needlessly.

“Without you, I have no purpose in my life,” Nobuharu said, stubbornness etched into his features.

“Ashina’s people need someone to lead them,” Kuro insisted. “You can bring them to Uesugi! Please, Nobuharu, for me.”

Nobuharu stared at him for a long moment. Kuro held his gaze, refusing to back down. Eventually, his general sighed quietly, sagging as though caught under a heavy weight. “As you wish, my lord.”

* * *

“I don’t want to lose them,” the Divine Child said, softer than a breath. All around her, the autumn leaves fluttered on the wind.

Then don’t, her siblings whispered. Take them away.

“But if I were to choose that path,” she said, “it may come to pass that I must leave all of you.”

It was alright, they replied soothingly. They understood. And in truth, they would never leave her, not in heart or mind.

Tears burned her eyes. “Thank you for your kind words.”

But would she be alright though to travel with him, they wondered. A wolf could be unpredictable. And he was quite hard to read.

She chuckled softly. Sometimes their worry could be so endearing. “My friends, listen … He is quite kind. You saw it for yourselves, did you not?”

“Hello?”

She gasped, eyes flying open. The shinobi – he stood right behind her!

“Shinobi of the Divine Heir,” she said, trying to calm her hammering heart, “I didn’t hear you come in!”

Wolf grunted softly, as though in apology. “I wanted to make sure that you’re alright.”

Warmth blossomed in the Divine Child’s chest. She couldn’t remember ever hearing such words …

“It is good that you are here, actually,” she said. This was her opportunity. She mustn’t waste it. “Thanks to you, I’ve been able to have a deep conversation with my friends.”

“With the Child of the Rejuvenating Waters?”

“Yes,” she said. “There is something I would like to discuss. I believe we should aim not to sever the Dragon’s Heritage, but instead return it to its rightful place.”

She heard the shinobi’s surprise in his tone. “Return the dragon’s blood?” 

“That’s right. The Dragon’s Heritage was set free from its homeland,” she explained. “And it drifted here to Japan. Its power was never meant for this land. Until something is done, it will continue to corrupt the lives of those who encounter it.

“The Dragon’s Heritage and those connected to it …” She raised a hand to her heart, remembering her family, and the false dragon’s blood. “It is only right that they return home. To the west … to the birthplace of the Divine Dragon. However, there is one problem,” she added. “I am unsure of the exact destination.”

Wolf was silent. The Divine Child paused; had she gone too far? Startled him with too much knowledge? She glanced over her shoulder at him, but there was nothing on his face save for a thoughtful look.

“Who would know?” he asked.

“Perhaps the Senpou High Priest,” she replied, relieved to hear him speak. “He’s the founder of Senpou Temple. He can be found in the narrow cave, not far from the Inner Sanctum.”

He was also one of the undying. How old was he now? No, it did not matter.

“Shinobi of the Divine Heir,” she began, then changed her mind. “Wolf.”

“Yes?”

“This path differs from that of the one to sever immortality. I do not wish to force my opinion on you. Should you wish to return the Dragon’s Heritage, then perhaps you should seek out the High Senpou Priest.”

“I’ll think about it,” Wolf replied.

Something about his roiling scent told her that he’d already made up his mind.

When he next found her, it was in the Inner Sanctum. The Divine Child stiffened; the stench of death clung to him in wisps, and dark blood stained the front of his haori. He must’ve gone to the narrow cave.

“Have you perhaps met with the High Priest of Senpou Temple?” she asked timidly as he approached.

“I found him,” Wolf said. “But he was dead.”

Dead, her siblings cried in shock. For certain?

“The High Priest was infested,” the Divine Child breathed. “How could this happen?” Were all her words for naught? If it turned out that she only gave the shinobi false hope … 

“I don’t know,” Wolf murmured. “However, he left this note.”

He handed a scrap of parchment to her. She took it and read it carefully, recognizing the High Priest’s sharp handwriting.

_Undying, I pray for the Dragon’s return. Undying, lo, let us wait an age …_

_For the Divine Heir to assimilate the cold dragon tears …_

_For the cradle to consume the pair of serpentine fruits._

_Let the cradle endure, giving Him shelter, granting His return to the west._

“I see,” she mused. “Consuming two persimmons of the serpent will allow one to become a cradle for the Divine Heir. This will make it possible to return the Dragon’s Heritage to its homeland.”

She glanced up at Wolf. “Have you decided to follow this path?”

The shinobi nodded. “I will let no harm come to my lord,” he said firmly. “Immortal severance will not guarantee his life.”

“I cannot guarantee it with this one either,” the Divine Child admitted. “But there is a high chance. The cradle, you see …”

A vessel for the Divine Heir to rest in, to be carried in.

That was not the shinobi’s duty. The Divine Child knew that immediately. That only left one option.

Was she certain, her siblings asked worriedly. Was she even right to go through with this?

 _I must try,_ she thought.

“I,” she said aloud, “shall become the cradle.”

Wolf’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “You’re sure of this?” he asked, echoing her siblings’ clamour.

She nodded once. “Of course.”

His frown deepened.

“I am the only surviving Divine Child of the Rejuvenating Waters,” she reminded him. “Death does not come easily to me.”

She was not trapped anymore, not by the monks or the Hall. She had the power to help, to save a life, and now she would use it as well as she could. 

The Divine Child took a deep breath, setting the parchment on the floor before her. “Shinobi of the Divine Heir. If you wish to continue with this path, then bring me two persimmons of the serpent.”

Wolf arched an eyebrow. “Do you mean these ones?” From a pouch he brought out two objects, one dried and one glistening red, both shaped like persimmons.

The Divine Child stared at them, speechless. When she looked up at him for an explanation, his lips quirked upward. “I found them while passing through the Sunken Valley. Here, take them.”

She reached out with trembling hands. This shinobi was truly full of surprises.

“This shade of red,” she murmured, turning the raw heart in her hands. “A persimmon is an apt comparison.”

“You’re actually going to eat them?” Wolf’s eyes shone with doubt as he glanced at the serpent hearts she held.

“Of course,” she said, though her own heart hammered against her ribs. “Doing so will allow me to become a cradle to return the Dragon’s Heritage to its home. However …” Her gut twisted with shame. “I hesitate to eat them in front of you.”

“I will turn around if you wish,” Wolf said. “I don’t think I should leave you alone.”

She bit her lip to stop it from wobbling. “Thank you,” she whispered. “But I would prefer if you returned a little later. You could stay in the guest room, if you prefer, or outside the Hall.”

Wolf’s flesh hand clenched for a moment. “Very well.”

Once he was gone from the hall, the Divine Child raised the raw heart to her lips. The coppery smell of blood filled her nostrils, making her wince.

She could do it, her siblings cried. Be brave!

Steeling herself, she opened her mouth and pierced the cold flesh with her teeth.

*

*

*

The hearts burned in her stomach.

The Divine Child doubled over, wheezing as fire licked at her bones, her muscles, her flesh. She was back in the monks’ chambers as they pressed her with needles and daggers, and forced burning drinks down her throat.

Her vision blurred. Her head swam, pounding with a hundred hammers. She thought she heard her siblings call, but she couldn’t make out their words.

Even the very tips of her fingers and toes burned with fire.

Tears fell from her eyes, catching on her cheeks like flaming oil and searing her skin.

 _For them,_ she repeated to herself, over and over again. _I did it for them. I do it for them._

And then, after what felt like an eternity, the fire finally cooled.

*

*

*

The Divine Child sat up, drawing in deep breaths. The Sanctum’s Hall was quiet. Everything appeared the same.

She sighed with immense relief. She’d done it! She must have done it – she ate the persimmons and survived! The cold air caressed her throat, as chilling as winter winds, or the ice of frozen lakes. Her hands too – they felt … cold.

A tear trailed down her cheek, and she reached up to brush it away, only to touch something smooth. Was that _ice?_

Her tears were freezing solid, her siblings exclaimed, their voices clashing in a cacophony.

The Divine Child blinked rapidly. Each tear blurred her vision, threatening to freeze over her eyes. As long as she made sure they spilled, she should be alright …

Footsteps echoed briskly down the hall, getting louder as they neared her seat. The Divine Child hesitated, still clearing her sight of tears. “Shinobi of the Divine Heir? Are you there?”

She heard his gasp. “Your – your eyes!”

Did they look bad? It must be because of her frozen tears. “Wolf?" she said softly. "It appears I have succeeded in becoming the cradle. Could you please take my hand?”

She held it out, focusing on Wolf as he knelt. The edges of his figure blurred, but she could make out his startled expression. “What is this?” he breathed, feeling her palm with callused fingers.

“It is cold,” the Divine Child said. “Much like an ice house. Which is why … See?” She touched her cheek. “My tears freeze as they flow down my face. Here, take them.”

“Frozen tears,” Wolf murmured as she slipped the ice-like droplets into his pouch. “Does this mean –?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I believe this is what the text referred to as ‘Cold Dragon Tears.’ The Divine Heir must drink them together with the Dragon Tears of the divine realm. If he does so, I believe Lord Kuro will be able to rest within the cradle.”

Wolf nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered. Then again, “Thank you.”

Her hand rested on his arm for a brief moment. Even though her body was cold, she felt warmer than ever, and comfortably so. “Here, something more. Bless us with silvery harvest …”

Pure white rice grains spilled into his waiting palms. “It’s cold!” Wolf exclaimed.

She nodded, smiling. “With my body so cold, the rice shines with an icy gleam.”

“It’s like snow,” the shinobi murmured.

The Divine Child giggled. “That is true. Then that is what we shall call it. Shinobi of the Divine Heir … Wolf, this fine snow is yours.”

He bowed his head. “I accept.” Resolve shone in his eyes, his posture, even spreading throughout his scent. The Divine Child had given him more than just precious rice.

She sat a little taller in her seat. Together they would set things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp now y'all know which ending I'm going for ... It's honestly the one that I think suits this story best, but hey, maybe Emma will have something to say when Wolf gets back loll XDDD


	18. Divinity

Fountainhead Palace was a marvel to behold. For a heartbeat, Wolf imagined bringing his lord here to witness the palace’s beauty. His heart stuttered as he gazed around at the buildings, the clear waters, the sakura blossoms. Overhead shone the moon and the night’s smattering of stars.

That notion soon dissolved as he passed through the manors, encountering the Palace nobles and Okami warriors. He couldn’t bring his lord here while the corridors and bridges were rife with danger. By the time Wolf reached the main palace at the base of the mountain, his skin tingled from repeatedly reversing the Okami’s lightning.

Genichiro crossed Wolf’s mind as he took a shortcut through the waters, bypassing the Great Carp and reaching the palace grounds. Ashina’s general had fought as the Okami did; their styles were similar, not to mention the shared ability to wield lightning.

He tucked that thought away for another time. He was inside the main palace now; outside roamed many Okami warriors, some gathering around a courtyard to dance. Wolf kept to the inside of the building, taking out the nobles that strayed there. 

As Wolf passed by an empty room, something caught his attention. An odd scent, but … familiar. Sakura?

Wolf paused and glanced inside the room. It was a suite, in fact, with a few smaller rooms branching off from this one. He crept inside, scanning the area. There was nothing save for dusty furniture and old wall tapestries.

But that scent … It was faint yet present. Wolf breathed it in. Yes, definitely the sweet aroma of sakura. The smell of it sent a flush of warmth through his body, mingling with the confusion in his gut. 

_Omega._ Suspicion arose in Wolf’s mind, but he continued forward to explore the other rooms.

The first one was a study. Wolf entered and laid his hand on the desk. A drawer sat next to it; the sakura scent was quite thick here, and Wolf slid the drawer open to reveal a thin sheaf of parchment.

He immediately recognized the handwriting on the parchment. If that wasn’t enough, the name at the top only confirmed his suspicion.

_My Takeru,_

_The warriors head out tonight. I must join them, but my heart turns ever to the palace._

_Look to your window at the moon’s zenith._

Wolf carefully replaced Tomoe’s note and shut the drawer. They must have lived here for a time after descending from the divine realm; Takeru’s faint scent still carried throughout the rooms, settling heaviest within the bedroom.

Wolf entered cautiously. The window was open, letting in the pale moonlight. The futon was made, enveloped in the smell of sakura, but there was something else also: the scent of fresh rainwater over the earth, sweet and delicate while carrying a metallic twist, hearkening a storm.

He could easily imagine Tomoe sliding through the window to reunite with her lord, but he stopped his thought process there.

Something dusty tickled his nostrils. Wolf crouched near beside the futon and lifted the pillow. A few leaves of parchment lay there, covered in Takeru’s flowing handwriting:

_I watch as white fire_

_Cleaves the sky,_

_And the very sight fills me_

_With such a flame_

_That I burn with longing._

_To think that you_

_Are so far_

_Yet so near;_

_I feel lost in this space_

_As a petal on fierce wind._

_The feel of your hair_

_Is like the softest silk;_

_Your slightest touch_

_Soothes my fire_

_And stokes it._

Wolf swallowed and tucked the poem under the pillow. He suddenly felt like an intruder, pushing into the late Divine Heir’s space. That poem was for Tomoe alone.

And yet, as Wolf departed from Takeru’s rooms, he couldn’t help but think of his lord. His Kuro. Each word in Takeru’s poem rang true in Wolf’s ears, even if it was for someone else. The meaning, the feelings and passion, couldn’t be more similar.

Wolf hardly had Takeru’s gift with words. He only knew how to please Lord Kuro through love-making, but now that seemed no longer enough.

He thought of his lord’s taste for sweets, and his enjoyment of books. An old memory came to his mind also: Lord Kuro as a boy, reading a page of old poetry. Perhaps … Wolf could learn. It was what he did best, next to carrying out his duty, and now there was a chance to ensure his lord’s life with the Divine Child’s frozen tears. Once this was all over, he and his lord might even find a place to live in peace …

He couldn’t remember ever hoping for something so large, let alone hoping for anything at all. Entering Lord Kuro’s service had changed his life; that moment when they first met felt like so long ago. Eight years … Each moment remained treasured in Wolf’s heart.

He left the palace and began his trek up the mountain, taking the stairs that were carved into the side. He’d return to his lord. Nothing would stop him, not even the streaks of lightning that now struck near him, nor the Okami warriors that awaited him at the top.

* * *

Dark clouds roiled overhead as Genichiro opened the worn, wooden box. Inside lay an odachi sheathed in a black scabbard, humming faintly with power.

The Black Mortal Blade. Tomoe had hidden it long ago; no one else save Isshin and Genichiro knew where it lay.

Genichiro hadn’t thought to retrieve it before. It had passed from his memory, but after learning of the shinobi’s resurrective power …

The Black Blade could kill immortals and the undying just as its twin could. And not only that – it could open a gate to the underworld. If Genichiro couldn’t have the dragon’s blood, he’d ensure Ashina’s survival with _this._

Genichiro curled his fingers over the odachi and lifted it out of the box. The Blade vibrated in his hand as he slowly drew it out of the scabbard. Black smoke curled around its honed edge in wisps.

He drew the Black Blade and let his death take place. He regained consciousness a few heartbeats later; the Blade was still in his hand, trembling, eager for blood. Genichiro’s lip curled as he turned away from the wooden box, looking into the distance where he knew Ashina Castle was situated.

He’d be there soon. He’d see if he could take his omega’s dragon blood this time. Kuro wouldn’t have left Ashina, not when he thought he could protect the people. 

The shinobi would be there as well. No matter. Genichiro planned to deal with him at any cost, for as long as it took. And once he had the shinobi restrained, he’d take his time with him. Tear the limbs off him, perhaps. Rip his heart out and crush it.

And then Genichiro could finally take Kuro and the dragon’s blood for himself.

He sheathed the Black Blade and began his return journey.

* * *

All shone pale as snow in the divine realm. The very ground Wolf stood on appeared to be made of clouds. Sakura trees grew in the distance, lush with pink and white.

But the greatest tree of all stood before him, tall and bright, proud and strong. Its sakura blossoms pulsed as the Divine Dragon reared up, wielding a seven-branched sword that shone like the moon.

Wolf swallowed, tightening his grip on Kusabimaru. Just a moment ago he’d fought the old, wooden dragons. Defeating them must have done something; they’d been sick, coughing poison gas. But now with them gone, the Divine Dragon’s sakura tree now bloomed full and healthy.

The Divine Dragon itself swayed gracefully into the air. It was then that Wolf noticed its missing left arm and the hideous gash upon its chest. Where did those wounds come from?

Its eyes fixed on Wolf, cold and piercing. A voice suddenly entered his mind, low and rumbling, as deep as a mountain’s roots in the earth.

_O blood-washed youth, how come thee unto my realm?_

Wolf remained silent.

 _Speak, O youth. For no vessel of hate shall I let stay, but thou …_ The Divine Dragon lowered its head, appraising him. _I smell the blossoms of eternal life. I hear the beat of an immortal heart. Where dost thou come from? Which of mine vessels bestowed my blood upon thee?_

Wolf focused on the Divine Dragon’s eyes. He needed the tears.

As though reading his mind, the Divine Dragon reared back with a low rumble. Its seven-branched sword arched through the air.

_The Crimson Blade! So this is thy purpose. Let us see then if thou art worthy of my tears._

A sudden rush of wind circled around the sakura tree, throwing Wolf back. He landed firmly on the ground and, Kusabimaru in hand, dashed forward.

The first strike of lightning elicited a roar of fury from the Divine Dragon.

_This shall not kill me, O youth. Once before have I suffered it and not died._

Wolf grit his teeth as he grappled to the next tree, reaching the farthest one that sparked with white fire. 

He managed to dodge a strike from the Divine Dragon’s blade and redirected a ribbon of lightning into its chest.

 _Another once tried as you do. A warrior in my name! She found not what she sought, and now hath passed beyond this realm_.

Was that Tomoe? Wolf knew she had searched for a way to sever Takeru’s immortality. Had she also tried to take the dragon tears?

The third strike of lightning forced the Divine Dragon to recoil. Then, just as Wolf grappled to the next tree, the Divine Dragon delved deep into the cloud-made ground and rose up, knocking Wolf into the air. He landed hard on the ground with a grunt, pain flaring up his side like a barrage of needles.

He got up, dodging a strike from the Divine Dragon’s blade just in time, and grappled for the nearest tree. _Just a few more,_ he prayed. _A few more._

He reached the tree that sparked with lightning, and all at once a gust of wind sent him up, higher than the Divine Dragon’s head. It rose to follow him, but Wolf, harnessing the lightning in Kusabimaru, struck its head with a great blast.

Both of them fell to the ground. Wolf landed on the ground even as the Divine Dragon went limp, its sword hanging to the ground and its head resting near the hilt.

Wolf sucked in a sharp breath. This was his chance!

He hurried up along the flat side of the Divine Dragon’s blade. Its left eye was right before him, shut in unconsciousness. Wolf wasted no time in drawing the Mortal Blade and piercing the Divine Dragon’s tear duct.

There was no blood. Instead, a drop of sakura-pink light floated free into Wolf’s waiting hand. _The dragon’s tears._ This was it!

Wolf withdrew the Blade and sheathed it. At the same moment, the clouds from below rose up to encircle around his feet.

As though from a distance, the Divine Dragon’s voice came into his mind.

 _I now know of the vessel. The young one of the earth bestowed his blood upon thee._ A soft chuckle. _His heart beats strong, unlike the other._

Wolf frowned. The other? Did it mean Takeru?

 _Go now, O youth,_ the Divine Dragon said. _Use my tears well._

The clouds enveloped Wolf and he floated in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote Takeru's poem by scratch; I have next to no knowledge about old Japanese poetry, so I looked to Ono no Kamachi for inspiration and guidance ^^;;
> 
> Also, the whole scene with Wolf and the Divine Dragon was giving me Sigurd+Fafnir vibes lmao (Mostly because I recently watched the Hobbit bts, so I had dragon-and-thief on the mind) XDDD
> 
> And one more thing! The whole deal with the Black Mortal Blade still kinda confuses me, so I'm going with the assumption that Tomoe had it loll And also with the guess that the Black Blade can kill immortals and undying, but it can't sever the source of immortality (which is why it wouldn't work for the Immortal Severance). Nor can it retrieve the dragon tears, which is a theory from VaatiVidya (on YouTube).
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! <33


	19. The Silvergrass Field

Isshin drew his katana as the Interior Ministry’s horns blew, bellowing into the night. The battle had begun.

“Come, young Kuro,” he said briskly. “It is time for you to leave Ashina.”

They stood at the castle entrance; the shoji was open, allowing them a view of the Ministry’s fire-lit path.

“I cannot go just yet,” Kuro protested, katana in one hand and a jinkai in the other. He wore his cream-coloured haori, and his hair was tied in a topknot. He’d even tied a grappling hook to his left arm. For a split second, his posture reminded Isshin of Sekiro. He hoped the shinobi was succeeding in his work.

“One of us must live if Ashina’s people are to be led,” he said.

“Then stay close to Lady Emma,” Kuro replied stubbornly. “Please, my lord. There is no need for you to –”

“I refuse to sit still while the war rages on.” Isshin eyed the edge of his blade. “I want a good fight before I die. But you have a chance. Don’t waste it.”

Kuro looked like he wanted to protest, but another bellow of the Ministry’s horn interrupted him. He shared a meaningful look with Nobuharu, then bowed to Isshin and strode out of the castle with the general at his side.

Isshin watched them go. Kuro would be fine. Nothing could make him bleed, after all. 

In another time, Isshin would’ve taken the young lord in as a samurai, honed him into a fine warrior. That opportunity was gone now; whether or not they both lived, Isshin doubted he’d see Kuro again before he gave in to his illness.

“My lord?” Emma asked at his side.

Isshin turned to her and smiled. “Come. It’s time to kill some rats.”

Even as he said it, he heard the call of a jinkai bellowing into the night.

* * *

Kuro stood upon a rooftop, holding the jinkai to his lips, directing Ashina’s remaining forces as best he could. The outer gate burned; already the fires spread through houses and consumed the outskirts’ watchtowers.

From his vantage point, Kuro watched as Ashina’s samurai met the oncoming Red Guards of the Interior Ministry. Sweat trickled down Kuro’s temple; the Red Guards held flamethrowers, bathing any obstacle in bright flame. Even now, more Guards swarmed through the outskirts and into the castle grounds. There was no hope of Ashina winning tonight.

Kuro blew his jinkai again, using the signals that Nobuharu had taught him. His jaw muscles ached, but he ignored it and drew in another deep breath, and another. All of his preparation, the war meetings and lessons in strategy, seemed to fly out the window as he stood over the battle. Nothing could have prepared him for this, only years of experience. And he had none of that now.

_My uncle, if ever I needed your help, now is the time when I need it most._

There was only so much he could do, and with so little of Ashina’s army. The Ministry’s forces spread through the castle grounds, breaking into buildings, taking control of the remaining guard towers. Kuro could only hope to keep them away from the reservoir, giving the clan’s people enough time to reach the hidden passage.

So far it was working. Kuro kept his eye on the reservoir bridge, directing Ashina’s samurai, establishing a guard to keep the people’s passage safe.

And then he heard it – a thin, piercing trill from the direction of the bridge. Nobuharu’s signal.

Kuro tied the jinkai to his obi and grappled from roof to roof, heading for the reservoir.

The clan’s people ran for the reservoir where the hidden passage lay. They knew how to find it, given the rumours that had spread earlier by Emma’s doing. They ran, quick as they could, and found the door to the hidden passage open, leading into a tunnel.

Nobuharu also guided them, which they were glad for. Men carrying supplies, women carrying children, children carrying their siblings – all of them dashed through the doorway and into the tunnel. Their hearts pounded with fear and adrenaline, and many wondered if they would even make it out of Ashina alive.

Kuro landed upon the reservoir’s bridge, staving off the Ministry’s Red Guards that moved to attack. Nobuharu fought farther off, covering for the last few stragglers as they made it into the hidden passage.

Kuro grunted, parrying an attack from a Red Guard. His arms burned. Each breath he took was like fire in his lungs. His eyes stung from the thick smoke.

But he had to keep going. He had to. The people depended on him, and – gods willing – Wolf would arrive with the dragon tears in hand. Kuro couldn’t falter now.

He glanced over the bridge, down to where the passage was. All of the people who’d arrived were now gone. He quickly dodged an attack from a Red Guard and killed him.

“Nobuharu!” he cried. “We must go.” They had to hurry before more of the Ministry’s samurai arrived.

Together they leapt down to the hidden passage and dashed through the tunnel. The silvergrass field lay before them on the other side, rustling softly in the wind. Ashina’s people were already at the bridge, making their way across the abyss to the far cliff.

Kuro halted at the bridge. Nobhuaru ran past him, only to stop and look back. “Hurry, my lord!”

“I can’t,” Kuro said. The words twisted in his chest, choking him. “I have to wait for Wolf.”

“He will find us, my lord.”

“I never told him what to do if the Ministry attacked!” Kuro’s heart raced, pumping ice through his veins. “He won’t know to look for us in Uesugi!”

His alpha … He couldn’t leave his alpha.

An eruption of flames rang through Kuro’s ears. He glanced over his shoulder; the lower buildings of the main castle burned fierce, a bright beacon beyond the tall cliffs that shielded the silvergrass field.

“Please, my lord, hurry!” Nobuharu cried. “Let us get the people to safety first.”

Yes, the people. Kuro steadied himself, grasping the bridge’s railing for balance. They’d discuss their options once they were far from the Ministry’s forces. He’d come back for his Wolf.

He stepped onto the bridge, and a burst of white light flooded his vision.

And then he was flying through the air, unable to see. All breath left his lungs as he landed hard on his back, hardly cushioned by the silvergrass. His ears rang terribly from the sound of thunder, rumbling throughout the sky, the field, his body.

The bridge. Nobuharu.

Kuro groaned as he stumbled to his feet. His head swam and his vision blurred, but he focused on the bridge and ran to it. The blast had sent him far back.

“No,” he murmured, grasping for the railing. “No. _No.”_

Half of the bridge was gone. Both ends burned with angry fire, and Kuro backed away from the oppressive heat. Tinder and splinters dangled, splitting off and falling into the abyss below. Kuro coughed from the thick stench of woodsmoke, shielding his face.

“Nobuharu!” he cried hoarsely.

There was an answering shout on the other end of the bridge. Kuro nearly sobbed with relief; his general stood there, having been thrown back by the blast.

“My lord!” Nobuharu shouted, his voice nearly drowned by the roar of flames. “Behind you!”

Kuro turned around. A chill crawled over his flesh even as his instincts screamed for him to run.

“We meet again, Divine Heir,” Genichiro said, standing several feet away. His chest was bare of any armour or clothing, displaying the black burns that twisted around his hands and arms. The sight of him was enough to freeze Kuro in fear.

Genichiro’s eyes gleamed as he looked Kuro up and down. His scent coiled in the air, thickening with desire, overtaking Kuro’s senses.

He steeled himself. “Nobuharu, run!”

His general’s voice was so faint he nearly missed it. “No, my lord –”

 _“Run!”_ he shouted, glancing over his shoulder. “Lead the people to safety. Do as I say!”

Amidst the orange flames, he saw Nobuharu hesitate.

 _Please,_ Kuro prayed. _Do this for me._

Nobuharu slowly backed away and hurried down the bridge, passing out of sight.

Kuro turned back to Genichiro. Ashina’s fallen general stepped forward, looking worn and wild, eyes flickering red.

“Where is your shinobi?” he asked.

“He is not here,” Kuro replied.

“How convenient.”

“He will return.” Kuro’s eyes flickered to the hidden passage, but there was no hint of orange. His heart thudded in his throat. _Wolf, where are you?_

“I don’t doubt it," Genichiro said with a slight sneer. "He is an obedient dog. But now I have the tools to stop him.”

He raised the odachi that he held. Kuro’s brow furrowed as he gazed at it, noting something familiar. Black smoke curled around the blade, hanging from the edge in wisps, dissipating on the air.

Shock burst in Kuro’s stomach. “That is –!”

“Indeed,” Genichiro murmured, his face suffused with a sick eagerness. “This will kill him well enough.”

Kuro’s hands trembled. How did Genichiro get the Black Mortal Blade?

No, it didn’t matter now. _Keep focused,_ Kuro told himself.

“I won’t let you,” he said aloud.

Genichiro took another step closer. His nostrils flared, and Kuro held his breath. There was no running from _this._

Genichiro’s eyes widened. His lips curled in a fierce snarl, and there was such shock and disgust in his face that Kuro nearly recoiled.

“You – _mated_ with him?” Genichiro hissed, eyes pulsing with red light. “I can smell his stench all over you!”

Kuro swallowed. “Yes, I am his omega now.”

Genichiro seethed through his teeth. His face twisted with a barely contained fury, and his fingers flexed over the hilt of his Blade. “So you throw yourself in the hands of a mongrel, just as you did your Heritage.”

Kuro sucked in a sharp breath. “I gave Wolf my blood to save him.”

“But you can’t do the same for your people, your homeland?” Genichiro demanded.

“For _yourself,_ you mean?” Kuro shot back. His old anger reared, fueling his words. “You wanted to use me to save Ashina, but you would have only hastened her doom. You hold that Blade now; do you really think you can save us all with it?”

Genichiro slowly circled him, and Kuro matched his steps. “There are some things that even you can’t understand, Divine Heir,” the general said. “I might have helped you to understand if you let me.”

“You are loyal only to Ashina.”

“Is that so bad to you? This land is our home, not the Ministry’s.” Genichiro’s lips twitched upward. “Or did you think I wouldn’t give you my full attention as your alpha?”

“No,” Kuro said quietly. “I could never be yours, Lord Genichiro. I know that you will ask, so I will say it now: I will never give you my Heritage. It will only destroy us all.

Genichiro growled low in his throat. "We will see about that. You can't run from me now."

Kuro tightened his grip on his katana. Genichiro had gifted it to him long ago in their courtship. And the jinkai, also, was Genichiro's gift.

That time seemed so long ago. He couldn't run from the general then. A deep part of Kuro knew that he couldn't ever run from him, not while either of them lived.

But he could try to reason.

"Lord Genichiro," he pleaded. "We don't have to fight each other. Come with us to Uesugi. Your people still live –”

Genichiro barked a humourless laugh. “You think they will follow me? I, of peasant blood, who took to heretical arts and still failed to stop the Ministry? You may think yourself wise, Divine Heir, but you are so naive.”

Kuro took a wary step back. He could continue to beg and plead, even try to threaten, but he could see it in Genichiro’s face that there was no changing his mind.

Kuro didn’t know how to feel about that, even after all that the general had done.

“I may be,” he said at last, “but I am not so ignorant. If you think you can save Ashina with such a weapon, you are mistaken. Nor will you ever have my blood. No one is worthy of the Dragon’s Heritage, not even myself.”

Genichiro’s eyes glinted dangerously. Kuro watched his every move, and at that moment, he was frightened. Wolf was not here to intervene this time. It was up to Kuro to stop Ashina’s general.

“Come here, my omega,” Genichiro said softly. “As you say, we don’t need to fight each other.”

Kuro said nothing. Muffled sounds roared in his ears – the dying fires on the bridge, the fires in Ashina Castle, the rush of his own blood.

Blood that Genichiro desired.

He raised his blade in time to meet Genichiro’s attack. A resounding clash rang in Kuro’s ears, pounding through his head. His arms trembled under the weight of Genichiro. The general loomed over him, close enough that Kuro could see the fury in his red gaze.

He couldn’t win against Genichiro, could he?

_Do what must be done._

Kuro grit his teeth and, gathering all his focus, slipped out from the sword lock and leapt away from the general. Genichiro followed with the Mortal Blade raised.

And Kuro attacked.

* * *

The clouds of the divine realm disappeared, and Wolf found himself standing within Ashina Castle’s main entrance. The shoji was open, letting in fumes of woodsmoke and the heat of flames, and the shouts of samurai.

Wolf was on his guard in an instant.

_We’re under attack._

_Lord Kuro!_

“Master Wolf,” a familiar voice called.

Wolf turned to see Emma kneeling nearby. Before her lay … Isshin.

He hurried over to them, unable to comprehend what was happening. When did the attack start? He’d just been in the divine realm, and now he returned to this …!

“What happened?” Wolf demanded. From the look of it, Emma must have dragged Isshin inside. Splashes of blood stained both Isshin’s white yukata and Emma’s purple kimono.

Emma’s face was grey, and her eyes weighted with solemn grief. “Lord Isshin has succumbed to his illness and passed away. I’m sure you sensed it.” She bowed her head. “The Interior Ministry has taken this opportunity to attack the castle.”

“And the Divine Heir?” Wolf all but growled. Had his lord known of the oncoming attack? _Damn it._ Wolf should have been here, protecting him!

“Here.” Emma took an object from her sleeve and handed it to him. It was a key. Wolf immediately recognized its make.

“My lord made it through the hidden passage?” he asked, unable to completely mask his urgency.

“He saw to the people’s escape through the passage,” Emma said with a nod. “Nobuharu is with him; both of them would have taken the passage to guide the people over the bridge. They are heading for Uesugi.

“The Nightjar have left smoke signals on the roofs under Lord Isshin’s orders,” she continued. “The smoke should lead the way to Lord Kuro.”

Wolf grunted, tucking the key into the fold of his shitagi. “Understood.” He vaguely knew the way to the reservoir, but the smoke signals ought to help him get there quickly.

“And Master Wolf –” Emma’s eyes shone, and she held out her hand as though to stop him from leaving too soon. “About the other way –”

“Don’t worry,” he said firmly. “I found one.”

Emma stared at him in surprise. A spark of hope lit in her pale face. “Really?”

Wolf nodded. The dragon tears and frozen tears remained safe in a pouch, tucked away within the folds of his innermost clothing.

“Then I pray,” Emma said softly, “that Lord Kuro achieves humanity.”

With that, there was nothing else to say. Wolf turned to depart from the castle. He needed to move swiftly if he was to reach his lord.

_Wait for me, my Kuro. I am coming!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp my schedule is all over the place again loll Sorry about that, guys! I got hired for full-time last week, so I kinda have less writing time, but I'll do my best! We're getting close to the end now, after all :D  
> And we've even gone up in the chapter total! That's because I thought the duel with Genichiro (and what happens after) ought to have its own chapter space hahaa
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! Once again, massive thanks to all those who've stuck with me and this far <333 It really means a lot to me! :D


	20. Author's Update

Hello :)

I hope you’re all doing well! It’s summertime where I am, and honestly, an air conditioner would be much appreciated loll

Now, on to business! Rest assured I’m not abandoning this fic. This probably sounds dramatic of me, but I’ll be taking a hiatus for a bit. I really want to finish this story, but real life has gotten rather busy, and I’m also running out of steam. I work full-time now, and I come home all worn out with a lack of motivation to write.

I also feel like the quality of the last few chapters went down, especially since I set myself a 4 day-ish posting schedule. I caught myself up in buffer chapters; the real chapter 20 is started, but I’m kinda stuck on a certain scene, and I haven’t been able to push myself through it yet.

I even started the Shura!ending fic that I said I’d write, and while that’s farther along than my work on chapter 20 is, I do feel that I should finish one fic first before posting the other.

So there we have it. I’ll rest a bit, and then I’ll try to get through that scene and continue writing. Thank you all for reading my story this far! It honestly means a lot to me, and reading your comments always made my day <33 I don't know when I'll be back; I’ll try not to take too long in returning, but we’ll see … 

When I do get around to posting the real chapter 20, I’ll likely delete this update (unless you guys would rather I kept it up XD)

Oh, and if anybody wants to chat with me about anything, you can find me on Discord as @Casstar :) Thanks y’all for reading this update!

Lots of love,

StarChrome <3


	21. Sword Saint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaack :D Well, hopefully loll ... I don't know if y'all are still interested in this story, but for those who are, thank you so much for your patience!! I'm sorry it took me this long; this chapter isn't the most exciting, and it kinda added to my burnout. But there's quite a bit of kurowolf juiciness in the next chapter, so I hope that'll make up for it! XD

When Wolf finally reached the hidden passage, clothes half-smoking from the Demon of Hatred’s heat, he immediately heard the distant clang of blades.

The door to the passage was open; he didn’t need the key. Wolf all but sped through the tunnel, running as fast as he could until he reached the other side. His heart drummed against his ribs, pounding harder with each stride. His lord was so close – Wolf could smell his sakura scent – 

The silvergrass field stretched before him in a sea of ivory, gleaming under the moon. All was motionless save for the two opponents who darted to and fro, blades glinting in the pale light, scents clashing in the air.

Wolf breathed deep. The stench he caught riled every instinct in his body and tinted his vision red.

_ Genichiro. _

And the one he fought –  _ Lord Kuro. _

Wolf rushed forward with Kusabimaru at the ready. He saw it all as though in slow motion: Lord Kuro dodged the black arc of Genichiro’s Mortal Draw, but he was not quick enough to evade the follow-up attack.

Lord Kuro stumbled back, still on his feet and clutching his side.

“Lord Kuro!” Wolf cried, and rushed forward.

Before he could even draw Kusabimaru, Lord Kuro held out his arm to halt him. Something dark stained his lord’s hand.

Wolf recognized the coppery stench of it. Every fibre of his being howled for retribution.

Genichiro stood back, a slight sneer on his face. “We meet again, Shinobi of the Divine Heir,” he murmured. “Behold, the second Mortal Blade.”

Wolf narrowed his eyes. A Black Blade … He didn’t know the full extent of this new Blade’s power, but if it was anything like the Red Blade, then he needed to tread carefully here. He needed to focus.

That was already difficult in itself. Wolf could smell his lord’s blood on that Blade, and his fury boiled in his chest, searing through his mind like wildfire.

“My lord,” he said, barely containing his growl. “Leave this to me.”

Lord Kuro turned slightly to look at him. His eyes, so beautiful in the moonlight, were like a clouded sea, soft and wistful. “Forgive me. I – I wish there was another way.”

_ There is another way _ . Wolf bit back the words, trapping them in his throat. Deal with Genichiro first and see to his lord’s safety. “It’s alright.”

He strode forward in front of Lord Kuro, drawing Kusabimaru seamlessly from its scabbard. “Once more,” he snarled at Ashina’s fallen general.

Genichiro raised the Black Blade. “Yes,” he said softly, eyes burning red. “Let’s finish this.”

The Black Blade thrummed with power just as the Red Blade did.

Wolf narrowly avoided its honed edge as Genichiro attacked. This fight felt different than the last one they’d had. Genichiro had been more … controlled. Calculating.

But now it was like fighting a wild beast. The general had lost nearly everything. He’d lose Ashina if he didn’t kill Wolf. If he didn’t take Lord Kuro.

Wolf refused to let him succeed in both. He’d avenge his lord – all the pain that Genichiro caused him. He’d destroy Genichiro even if it killed Wolf in the process.

_ Cripple him first. Then finish him with the Mortal Blade. _

They leapt through the air, two alphas at full force, intent on tearing out each other’s throats. Wolf saw the bloodlust in Genichiro’s eyes. The unrestrained fury and hatred.

The flare of his gaze was enough to distract Wolf for a split second. Before he knew it, a powerful blow knocked Kusabimaru from his hands. He fell back on the ground with a grunt. Pain lanced up his entire back, and he grimaced.

Genichiro stood over him with a look of extreme distaste. “An alpha who can’t even protect his omega? I should have expected it.” He raised the humming Blade. “Farewell.”

He never drove the Blade down into Wolf’s chest.

Genichiro stilled. He arched back; a choked gurgle pushed its way up his throat. Then, before Wolf could realize what happened, the point of Kusabimaru drove through Genichiro’s chest – his heart – from behind.

_ Who – _

Genichiro fell to his knees, revealing Lord Kuro.

Wolf sucked in a sharp breath. Blood seeped from his lord’s side, but there wasn’t any way to stem the bleeding. Lord Kuro wrenched Kusabimaru from Genichiro’s back; this seemed to cost the rest of his energy, for he stumbled back with a gasp.

“We,” he breathed, locking eyes with Wolf, “we protect each other.”

With that, he collapsed into the silvergrass.

“My lord –!” Wolf scrambled to his feet, only to be stopped by the fallen general before him.

“Not so fast,” Genichiro wheezed. “Shinobi of the Divine Heir.”

He lurched to his feet despite the weeping gash in his chest. “In the end,” he murmured, “I was powerless, but … Ashina will rise once more. The dragon blood surging through her veins …” He raised the Black Blade to his neck. “With this, Ashina’s long night comes to an end.”

The Blade drove into his neck. It only took a second; Wolf watched, waiting for Genichiro to fall, but he never did.

A mist of blood hovered around his neck. Wolf’s heart leapt into his throat. A strange power filled the air, sending chills down his spine. What was going on?

Genichiro’s head abruptly snapped to the side, and, with a sickening crunch, a long arm erupted from his neck.

Wolf nearly forgot how to breathe.

The hand reached for the Black Blade. “Pitiful grandchild,” a familiar voice sighed. “This was your last wish … to see Ashina returned from the great beyond.”

The red mist spread around Genichiro, covering him as his body crumpled. Something emerged from him … something large and tall …

Wolf raised Kusabimaru, gripping the hilt with tight fingers. As the mist cleared, he saw who stood there, dressed in blue robes and wearing a helmet.

“This means, Sekiro,” Isshin said, brandishing the Black Blade, “I must destroy you.”

Fear pulsed through Wolf’s veins, though he would never admit it aloud.

His first instinct was to run. Move away from Isshin’s blade – and then his spear – and then the lightning that filled the field.

“How my blood boils,” Isshin bellowed. “Face me, Sekiro!”

Wolf dodged to the side as a bolt of lightning flew past him. His scalp tingled from the energy. Isshin’s alpha scent suffused the air, as powerful and sharp as his attacks, crashing upon Wolf’s senses to force his surrender.

Wolf retreated a good distance from Isshin to gather himself. The Sword Saint called for him, but he ignored it. All his training, his battles with other opponents, seemed to coalesce in this moment. He mustn’t lose focus. His lord counted on him.

He drew in a deep breath and returned to the fight.

Whether by the gods’ grace or Wolf’s skill, or both …

His muscles burned all over, and his lungs ached with each breath, but he landed a blow on the Sword Saint. And another. And another.

He brought Isshin to his knees. Isshin grunted, straightened his shoulders, and bowed his head with a cry of finality.

Wolf watched him, breathing heavily. The Mortal Blade hummed in his grip. Eager for blood.

“Finish it!” Isshin barked.

Wolf raised the Red Blade and brought it down, severing Isshin’s head. It fell to the ground, and his body followed suit.

As Wolf sheathed the Blade, he thought he heard Isshin’s voice on the wind: “Well done, Sekiro.”

“Farewell,” Wolf murmured.

It was over.

Silence filled the silvergrass field. Wolf could hear the flames in the distance, burning Ashina Castle to the ground. The faintest shouts and clashing of blades.

The soft, wheezing breath of his lord.

Wolf scrambled forward, drawing in ragged breaths as he went, silvergrass flattening under his feet. He could smell his lord’s scent, growing thick in the air along with the coppery smell of blood.

He fell to his knees beside Lord Kuro’s prone body.

As if sensing his presence, his lord stirred. “Wolf,” he whispered weakly, softer than a breath. “Where are you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is half-finished so it ought to come soon, but don't quote me on that ^^;; I also have a new job now, so I'll do my best with my new schedule!
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! Again, I'm sorry it took me ages to get the next chapter up, and thank y'all so much for your patience!!


	22. A Hidden Sanctuary

“I am at your side,” Wolf murmured, carefully lifting Lord Kuro into his arms. Despite his lord’s feeble attempt to staunch the bleeding, his wound still bled, staining his kimono dark.

_ The gourd. _ Wolf fumbled for it at his waist. He had to focus. He must.

He could not let his lord die.

He raised the gourd to Lord Kuro’s lips. “Drink this, my lord. It will heal you.”

To his surprise, Lord Kuro tilted his head away. “Wolf … The dragon tears …”

A lump formed in Wolf’s throat. “My lord,” he said raggedly. “Let us go from this place first. Away from the fighting.”

He saw the Divine Child in his mind’s eye, waiting for him in the Inner Sanctum. If he could just get his lord there, all would be well.

“Why? We should not … delay.”

“There is another way,” Wolf blurted. “I found another. Trust me, my lord.”

Surprise sparked in Lord Kuro’s eyes. He searched Wolf’s face for a moment, though it felt like an age to Wolf.

“Very well,” he eventually whispered.

Wolf exhaled with relief and raised the gourd again. “Please, my lord. For me.”

Lord Kuro parted his lips to accept the gourd’s waters. Wolf watched as he drank, then turned to his lord’s wound. The gash in his skin was clearly visible through the tear in his kimono.

The bleeding stopped. Wolf watched closely, waiting for the flesh to mend, but – nothing happened.

His heart drummed rapidly against his ribs. Why wasn’t it working? “My lord, take some more.”

Lord Kuro obeyed. This time, the wound began to shrink, but so excruciatingly slow. Was it some effect of the Mortal Blade? Wolf grit his teeth, bidding his lord to take another mouthful.

A  _ boom _ sounded somewhere around the castle. Wolf tightened his hold around Lord Kuro. They couldn’t stay here for too long.

He hurriedly took Lord Kuro’s obi and re-tied it tight to cover the half-healed wound. Lord Kuro squeezed his eyes shut against the pain; a soft whimper escaped him.

“There now,” Wolf murmured. “We shall go now.”

He gathered Lord Kuro in his arms and lifted him up, thinking to carry him all the way to Mount Kongo.

“Wolf,” his lord murmured, breathing heavily as he clutched his side. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. We will be faster this way.”

“Where do you …” Lord Kuro paused for breath, “… want to go?” 

“Senpou Temple. It is far, but there is a safe place where we can perform the ritual.” Wolf started towards the secret passage. He’d have to sneak past the fighting in order to reach the abandoned dungeon. It was the only quick way to the mountain.

“Senpou Temple,” Lord Kuro repeated in a weak mumble. His head bounced slightly against Wolf’s shoulder as the latter hurried.

“Try not to speak, my lord,” Wolf said. “You must keep your strength.”

Lord Kuro murmured something that Wolf couldn’t quite catch. After a moment, his eyes shut, and his breathing slowed with sleep.

Wolf exhaled a shaking breath and pressed a kiss to his lord’s brow. They’d escape this. He’d get his lord to the Divine Child alive. One step at a time.

He plunged into the darkness of the passage.

Lord Kuro awoke in the shadows of the abandoned dungeon.

“Wolf?” he whispered.

“I am here,” Wolf replied in a low voice. His lord couldn’t see much, and that was just as well. Wolf didn’t want him to see the grotesque remains of those who’d suffered Ashina’s experiments.

Above ground, the sounds of fighting gradually slowed. Yet Wolf did not trust that they were safe just yet.

Lord Kuro pressed his face against Wolf’s shoulder as though to ward off the unwanted darkness. Wolf nuzzled his cheek in return.

They were getting closer to the end of the dungeon.

In the clear, crisp air of Mount Kongo, Wolf gave his lord another drink from the gourd. Lord Kuro’s wound sealed over a little more, thank the gods. But damn it, why must it heal so slowly?

Lord Kuro relaxed as Wolf tucked the gourd away. He drew in a deep breath, then turned his eyes up to the sky.

“Wolf,” he murmured, sounding a little stronger. “Where are we going?”

“To the Divine Child,” Wolf said. “Her home is well-hidden. You’ll be able to perform the ritual there.”

Lord Kuro hummed in acknowledgement. He still stared upwards, watching the bright red boughs wave above them.

“My lord?” Wolf said worriedly.

“This place,” Lord Kuro murmured. “It's beautiful. I've never been on a mountain before.”

He was talking more. That was a good sign, wasn't it? Struck with an idea, Wolf carefully adjusted their position so that Lord Kuro could look out from the mountain. "See there, my lord?"

The land sprawled before them like a majestic painting, vast and distant. Yet Wolf hardly paid it any attention. He kept his focus on Lord Kuro who stared at the scene. A light of awe appeared in his weary eyes, and he smiled.

Then he turned his head to look at Wolf. The light in his gaze turned into something more – something bright and strong, warming Wolf to his core.

“Beautiful,” Lord Kuro said softly, sagging as he fell asleep once more.

By the time they reached the Inner Sanctum, Wolf trembled all over. There was no going back once they went inside. Lord Kuro was standing on his own now, though he still held onto Wolf for support. He gazed at the Sanctum with wide eyes. "This is …?"

"Yes, my lord." Wolf led him through the doors into the Sanctum's Hall. There, before the altar, sat the Divine Child. She looked up as Wolf and Lord Kuro came near.

"Shinobi of the Divine Heir! You are welcome here. And this –" A timid smile graced her face. "Is this the Divine Heir, Lord Kuro himself?"

Lord Kuro appeared startled that she knew his name. "I am," he said. "Are you the Divine Child of the Rejuvenating Waters?"

The Divine Child nodded. Then she gasped softly "Oh – you are hurt!”

Before Wolf knew it, she whisked them away to a private room, tucked in another wing of the Inner Sanctum. “You may rest here,” she said. “I will get something for you.”

She left in a flurry of robes, leaving Wolf to ease Lord Kuro onto the futon. “My lord,” he murmured, holding out the gourd.

Lord Kuro took a short drink. Once he finished, he said, “Wolf … What is this other way you found?”

“That –” Wolf barely got a chance to continue; the shoji slid open, admitting the Divine Child inside. She carried a small tray with a dish that steamed. Cooked rice.

“Here,” she said, kneeling at Lord Kuro’s side. “Eat this.”

Wolf helped his lord to sit up so that he could accept the bowl of rice. Lord Kuro leaned back against his chest as he ate. In this position, Wolf could do nothing more but breathe in his lord’s sakura scent; it covered his hair and neck, caressing Wolf’s senses. His arms inched around his lord’s waist – to  _ support _ him, Wolf reminded himself.

“Thank you,” Lord Kuro said once he’d finished the rice. “It was delicious.”

“It should quicken the healing process,” the Divine Child said, taking the empty bowl. “You were hit with the Mortal Blade, yes?”

“How did you know?”

“I kept that Blade hidden for a long time, long enough to recognize its presence. It … clings to you, Lord Kuro.”

So it  _ was _ the Mortal Blade’s doing. Wolf resisted the urge to remove it from his back and push it far away from his lord.

“How do you feel?” the Divine Child asked.

“Better,” his lord replied. “You have my gratitude. May I know your name?”

The Divine Child caught Wolf’s eye before looking back to Lord Kuro. “You may call me what you wish. Your shinobi told me about you.” Sadness touched her gaze. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances.”

Lord Kuro inclined his head. Wolf wished he could see his face.

“I know why you are here,” the Divine Child continued. “You wish to sever the immortal ties.”

A hint of surprise seemed into Lord Kuro’s scent. “In that case … My shinobi spoke of a different ritual.”

“Yes. We will return your Heritage to the divine dragon’s birthplace. And to do that, you must rest within a cradle.” The Divine Child took a breath. “I am your cradle.”

Lord Kuro stiffened. “You – But what will happen to you after? If you are hurt –”

“I will be alright,” she said. Wolf frowned at that. Neither of them knew what would happen to her after they found the dragon’s birthplace. As much as he wanted to keep his lord alive, placing an ill fate on the Divine Child did not sit right with him. Damn, he should have thought of this earlier!

“It is my choice,” she added, and something about her tone told Wolf that she was also speaking to him. “I too have suffered from the lure of immortality, and I want nothing more than to help you put an end to it.”

Lord Kuro hesitated, then leaned towards her. “Then I will be glad to have you by our side.”

A soft smile touched the Divine Child’s lips. “Trust your shinobi and myself. We will see it done. But first,” she added, “I would like you to rest. The rice works slowly, you see. You will be stronger in the morning.”

Wolf very much agreed with that. Yet as the Divine Child left, she caught Wolf’s eye and offered a subtle nod. 

He understood then. She was giving them time. A final moment to be together before the ritual. Gratitude filled him to the brim, but she was gone before he could say anything.

“Wolf,” Lord Kuro murmured. His hand slipped over Wolf’s, fingers tightening with a sense of urgency. “Whatever happens … Promise me you will look after her.”

“I will,” Wolf said solemnly.

He gently lay his lord onto the futon. There weren’t any blankets; the room wasn’t particularly cold, but Wolf removed his haori and draped it over Lord Kuro. His lord’s eyes closed in exhaustion, but they fluttered open as he sat back.

“Will you stay?” Lord Kuro asked quietly.

“Of course, my lord.” How could he ask that? Wolf would never leave him if he could help it.

“I mean,” his lord amended, “there is enough space for the both of us here. If you like.”

Wolf’s heart leapt into his throat. His lord’s wondrous scent enveloped him as he lay down at his side. They were so close; he could see the individual strands of grey in his lord’s hair, the delicate curve of his cheekbones and neck, the soft rise and fall of his chest. Wolf could almost feel Lord Kuro’s skin under his hands, but – his lord needed rest. He was already asleep too, and Wolf was loath to wake him.

He settled in to keep watch, though there was no need to. No dangers passed through this place. And in any case, his gaze continually moved to Lord Kuro’s peaceful face. He was so beautiful. Wolf already knew it, but with the amount of time they had left, it was as though he was seeing it in a new light.

His eyes stung. What would he do if he lost his lord, his beloved omega? Abandon his shinobi ways, become a hermit … Sculpt Buddhas as the late Sculptor did. What else could a man like him do after losing his purpose?

A tear slipped from Wolf’s eye, unseen in the darkness.

He must have dozed off. When he awoke, it was still dark.

Wolf immediately looked to his lord. How could he have fallen asleep? What if Lord Kuro needed something, but didn’t wake him?

He met Lord Kuro’s open eyes.

“Wolf?” his lord whispered, staring unseeingly into the dark.

“I am here, my lord.”

Lord Kuro felt around for Wolf and caught his arm. "Wolf, be safe. You could run into anything while travelling west. And the Interior Ministry is still active."

Wolf laid his hand over Lord Kuro's. "We will be alright, my lord. I'll make sure of it."

His lord sighed quietly. "I know you will," he murmured. "You'll look after her, yes? But – don't forget yourself.”

Wolf’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

"Whatever happens to me –"

"Nothing will happen to you, my lord." His words came out more forcefully than intended.

"None of us know what it means to 'rest in the cradle'," Lord Kuro pointed out. "Will my spirit leave my body? Will my body disappear entirely?"

A sickening pressure built in Wolf's chest, making it hard to breathe.

"So," Lord Kuro continued softly, "that is why I want you to look after yourself. If something were to happen to me …"

"If you were lost," Wolf said, quieter than a breath, "I would follow you."

"Wolf –"

"You are my lord. My mate. You have been my purpose all these years."

"You can find a new purpose." A pleading more entered his lord's voice. "Can't you?"

"I know of no other way to live."

"You must find one. I want you to live. For me. Build a life where you can." His lord's grip tightened on his arm. "Would you want me to take my life if you lost yours?"

Several replies twisted in his mouth. What came out was a mumbled, "No."

Lord Kuro shifted closer to him. "Wolf, I would want to follow you. If I lost you to battle –" His voice cracked. "I worried for you while you were gone."

"I am here now, my lord," Wolf said. "We are still here, together."

"Will you promise me, then? Try for me."

"I –" Wolf swallowed hard. "I will."

He saw Lord Kuro's grateful smile and the relief shining in his eyes. His lord closed the distance between them and tucked himself against Wolf's chest. Out of instinct, Wolf wrapped an arm around Lord Kuro, feeling the heat seeping through his kimono.

Something stirred in Wolf then – a burning heat, pouring into his core and filling his whole body, reawakened once again. His lord’s scent filled his lungs, calling to him.

“Lord Kuro,” Wolf said hoarsely. His lord must have caught something in his tone; his eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat.

Or perhaps he’d caught something in Wolf’s scent. It had taken on a heavy, musky note, and Wolf only realized it now. But he didn’t care.

All he could focus on was his lord lying there. Who knew when the dawn would come? How much time did they have left? He didn’t know, and it gnawed at him.

Lord Kuro slipped his arm around Wolf’s waist. “Come here,” he breathed.

Wolf moved without thinking, positioning himself over his lord, gazing down at his fair face. His prosthetic hand slid down his lord’s waist in a firm caress. Deep down he knew that it had only been a day or two, but  _ gods _ it felt like ages since he’d last touched his lord like this … 

He abruptly remembered himself and stopped despite his screaming instincts. “Are you certain?” he asked raggedly. “Your wound –”

“I don’t feel it anymore,” his lord assured him. “I think it is healed."

Wolf frowned and glanced down at Lord Kuro’s kimono. His obi was untied, and his kimono lay open. So was his yukata. How had he not noticed before? Wolf carefully touched the area of his lord’s wound. It was indeed sealed, leaving only a faint scar.

His hand trembled over his lord’s satin skin. Lord Kuro couldn’t see him clearly in the dark, yet even then his face was filled with mingled warmth and … something solemn. Grief, perhaps?

Lord Kuro reached up to touch Wolf’s cheek. “Do you want to?”

Gods yes, he wanted to. Wolf leaned against his lord’s hand, then bent down to kiss his cheek. “Yes,” he mumbled between kisses, trailing down his omega’s neck and onto his bare chest.

Kuro’s arms wrapped around his back. He moaned softly as Wolf licked his budding nipple, then gasped as Wolf bit his soft skin lightly.  _ “Ahh _ – my alpha …”

Wolf quickly undressed himself, mouthing at his omega’s neck as he did so. His cock ached with need, hanging low and heavy over Kuro’s thigh. Wolf grunted as its swollen head rubbed against his omega’s hakama.

That hakama – Wolf wanted it  _ gone. _ He all but pulled it down to Kuro’s ankles, snarling with impatience. Kuro whimpered breathlessly and spread his legs, panting hard.

Wolf slid his hands along his omega’s inner thighs. He was so soft, so  _ warm. _ Wolf wanted to mark every inch of Kuro’s skin with his teeth.

As he came to Kuro’s cunt, he saw the slick glistening there, caught the sweet aroma of it. Even his cock stood erect, weeping beads of early seed. Wolf’s mouth went dry at the sight. Gods, his omega was so beautiful like this, splayed out before him, ready for his touch.

“Wolf,” Kuro moaned. “Please …”

That was enough to send him over the edge. Wolf tightened his grip around his omega’s thighs and dove between his legs. The alluring scent of Kuro’s slick filled his senses to overflowing. Wolf couldn’t drink his juices up fast enough. He wanted  _ more. _

He lifted Kuro’s legs over his shoulders and pressed deeper, lapping at his omega’s sweet, trembling folds with his harsh tongue. Kuro writhed, bucking his hips against Wolf’s face, mewling with pleasure.  _ “Ahh! _ Oh yes –  _ yes, _ Wolf – more –”

He was going to come. Wolf could feel it. Kuro’s folds tightened, dripping slick all over for Wolf to greedily take. When Kuro jerked up with a lusty cry, Wolf held him fast, tonguing the sweet spot of his cunt until his omega sobbed.

Kuro was still in the midst of his coming when Wolf moved to his balls, massaging them with his tongue, and then the base of his twitching cock. His omega’s wails filled his ears as he moved up and down the shaft, relentless in his pleasuring. This could be the last time they lay with each other like this. Wolf was determined to remember everything,  _ everything _ about his Kuro.

“My lord,” he gasped, his voice a soft growl. “More?”

“Yes,” Kuro gasped, chest heaving with a thin layer of sweat. “More, my alpha – please!”

Wolf was only too happy to oblige. He took the head into his mouth, sucking hard and fast, dragging his tongue against the slit. His omega tasted so deliciously sweet.

“Ohh –  _ ohhh,” _ Kuro moaned, his hand slipping around Wolf’s head with a tight grip. “Wolf, I’m –  _ ahhh!” _

His omega came again, bucking his hips against Wolf’s mouth as his seed gushed forth. Wolf swallowed it all like fresh water on a hot day, groaning wantonly once it was done. His swollen cock ached so much for release that it hurt.

He gently laid Kuro’s legs around his waist, positioning himself against his cunt. He groaned as his cock rubbed against Kuro’s folds. He was too damn swollen – he wanted to bury himself in his omega, submerge in that delicious, wet heat until he burst.

Kuro whined, bucking his hips against Wolf’s cock. Wolf didn’t wait; he thrust into his omega with a grunt, savouring the incredible bliss that filled his core. He thrust again, grinding against his omega’s soaking folds, and the friction was so much that he couldn’t think of anything else.

The pressure built until he couldn’t take it anymore. He pounded hard and fast into his omega, burying his face into Kuro’s neck, snarling with need.

“Kuro,” he growled hoarsely, dragging his hands down his omega’s torso. “Mine.  _ Mine.” _

“Yours –  _ ahh! _ ” Kuro cried out with each thrust, bucking his hips to meet Wolf’s rhythm. He clawed at Wolf’s back, but the sting of his nails only added to Wolf’s building pleasure.

He was so close, so damn close. His hands slipped under Kuro’s buttocks and squeezed, hoisting his omega’s hips up as he bore down hard. His knot swelled to impossible size, throbbing with such a need that each grind against Kuro’s folds was an agony. Kuro wailed into Wolf’s shoulder as he tried desperately to clamp around his thickening knot.

And then, when the pressure became so much that Wolf thought he’d black out, his cock  _ burst. _

Wolf moaned low as his seed gushed forth, filling Kuro to the brim. Kuro mewled, quivering and tightening around Wolf’s cock as he also came, covering Wolf in his slick. Wolf lost himself in the sheer bliss of it all, collapsing on top of his omega, breathing in his sakura scent.

He could stay like this forever. Wrapped in his Kuro’s embrace, buried deep within him, becoming one in their love-making. He tightened his hold around Kuro, pressing deeper as they both rode out their ecstasy, never wanting to let go.

Kuro pressed a feverish kiss to his cheek. Wolf’s skin tingled from the touch of his omega’s soft lips, and he caught them in his own. How sweet his Kuro tasted … Their mouths molded together as he swallowed Kuro’s moans, tongues languidly dancing around each other.

Wolf drew back eventually, and most reluctantly. He gazed down at his lord and mate as though it were the last time. Kuro’s eyes fluttered half-closed in exhaustion, but a serene smile was on his face. Warm and soft, and full of such love that Wolf shuddered.

Kuro drew him closer until their chests were flush. “Whatever happens,” he murmured, kissing Wolf’s mating bite, “I will always be with you.” His voice grew faint. “Always.”

Wolf did the same with Kuro’s bite. “And I with you,” he murmured gruffly, his eyes stinging once again. “Sleep now, my lord.”

They lay there, entwined, wrapped in the heat of their bodies even as the dawn arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm yess, all the feels! :D This took me a bit longer to finish than expected because I sometimes have trouble writing all this juiciness loll Like, how to I make it bigger/better than the other times I've written it? But sometimes, simplicity is best XD
> 
> Also, I'm thinking that the Divine Child's quarters are in another wing, or she decided to take a nighttime stroll. Yknow, so she doesn't have to hear them in action ^^;;;;;
> 
> Your comments and kudos are all greatly appreciated! <333


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